Want and Need
by whitedwarf
Summary: Luis awaits execution.Sheridan is shunned by all of Harmony.But are Fancy and Luis as perfect for each other as everyone thinks?Especially when Luis's heart begins to protest against the treatment of his love?And Fancy's jealously rears its ugly head?
1. He was Torn

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

_SUMMARY: _

_# This takes place while Luis is waiting to be executed. It is very close to the day of execution but he hasn't had any thoughts of marrying Fancy yet. Sheridan did do all those awful things except she didn't completely destroy Fancy's credibility in court or admit she still wanted Luis on the stands. Instead her testimony was inconsequential. Sheridan also has no idea who Fancy's real attacker is. And she never visited Luis in jail. #_

...

"Lopez-Fitzgerald!"

Luis turned his neck slightly to look at the guard, "Visitor." The middle aged, overweight man informed with a lecherous grin. "Hot stuff too." He laughed obnoxiously while Luis grimaced and stood from the lower bunk of his cell.

Theresa or Fancy, he'd say.

As the two walked to the visitor area Luis tuned out the perverted guard as best he could, "...with that blonde hair and big blue eyes she looks like an angel, you are one lucky man! Well, at least until tomorrow."

Luis's head snapped to the guard as the description 'like an angel' registered in his mind.

Sheridan.

Unwanted anticipation bubbled up in him and he frowned darkly at its appearance but he couldn't stop the quickening of his steps.

He was torn. He was angry at her, furious even, still, he hadn't seen her in the three months he'd been inside this prison. During the first few weeks he would find himself thinking of what he would say to her, how he would coldly ask her how she could treat her niece in such a way. How he had never expected her of all people to transform into such a vindictive, ruthless Crane.

But by the fifth week other thoughts began to infiltrate his rage, such as the small voice at the back of all his anger which slowly grew in volume the more time passed, asking, why hadn't she come? Why hadn't she visited him?

And the closer that looming execution date came the more panicked that voice became. And the question that had appeared a week ago, one he didn't think he'd even care about anymore; suddenly, it was important.

It was more important than any of his other questions.

...What if he didn't get a chance to say goodbye?

Finding the daily task of chaining him more vexing than he usually did, Luis finally turned to the door and looked through the small plastic window there.

No matter how small, no matter how ridiculous and unwelcome it was Luis couldn't ignore the way his heart sank slightly as he saw the brave, smiling face of his girlfriend, Fancy, staring back at him.

"As I said, lucky guy." The guard, Ron, chuckled as he opened the door and led him over to the small table and into a plastic seat opposite the blonde that had visited him almost every day.

"Luis..." Fancy breathed his name as she always did, like a prayer and rose to hug him tightly, sneaking in a quick kiss before they resumed their usual seats. "How are you?" She asked with concern.

Luis barked a laugh. "Fancy, you saw me yesterday." But he knew what she meant, today was his last day. Tomorrow would be the execution.

"God!" She blubbered and Luis smiled reassuringly. "Sorry, sorry."

"It's alright. But let's talk about something else, alright?" He asked.

"Yeah, of course. What do you want to talk about?"

Luis sighed silently. Sometimes, it was like pulling teeth. Putting the small irritation out of his mind he grinned. "Why don't you catch me up on Harmony's gossip, huh? Theresa's intrigues, Miguel's battle, Sam's troubles at the office now that he doesn't have me to straighten everything out."

She laughed. "Alright. Well, as you know Theresa's got Gwen to deal with again seeing as how she's back in town but Ethan doesn't look to be going anywhere anytime soon. Pilar and Eve have been helping with the Christmas decorations at the church and um...oh!" Fancy exclaimed excitedly, quickly leaning forward to take his hand with a wide grin on her face. "I almost forgot to tell you! Guess what?"

Luis smiled back at her obvious enthusiasm. It was the 21st today; last year would be his last Christmas.

"I don't know what?" Luis parried.

"I've been asked to be the one to light the tree this year at the tree lighting ceremony! I've always wanted to and I'm really excited."

Luis's grin faded slowly. "You're kidding?" He gave a small smile of confusion while the tiniest seed of concern appeared in his mind. "I think the only year Sheridan hasn't done it, when she was in town, was when she insisted that Paloma do the honours the year she came back to Harmony." Suddenly, the smile slipped off his face completely as a thought occurred to him for the first time, a cold feeling of loneliness swiftly accompanying it. "Is that it? Has Sheridan left town?" he asked. It would explain why she hadn't come even once to see him and why Fancy was being asked to light the tree which had been the traditional ceremony of Katherine Crane and her daughter. She wouldn't be here tomorrow then.

He'd just assumed that he would see her again. Was he never going to see her again?

The thought seemed to unexpectedly paralyse him.

Fancy frowned, as if insulted by the suggestion. "No. Sheridan hasn't left town, Luis. Is it that hard to imagine that I would be asked to do the honours this year instead of her?"

Luis relaxed before getting angry at his reaction. Honestly, Sheridan's actions had hurt, shocked and appalled him leaving him floating in a sea of confusion asking if he ever really ever knew her at all.

"Of course not, Fancy. I'm just surprised, that's all." And there was that small seed of concern rearing its ugly head again. "It's never happened before, except Paloma, of course. Did Sheridan insist on you lighting the tree this year?" He asked. If she had it was a cheap apology in his opinion, more geared towards public acceptance than Fancy's forgiveness.

"Luis, no, I was approached by my Mother, Doctor Russel and several other ladies who asked if I'd be interested. Of course, I jumped at the chance. I've always wanted to and I've always thought it terribly unfair that Sheridan didn't share each year, so that made me feel even better about doing it." Fancy explained.

It was ridiculous, the tree lighting ceremony while a town event was, in the grand scheme of things, a very small thing. Still, it was strange. Perhaps Sheridan had told the event co-ordinators that she didn't want to do it this year, yes that must be it.

"Well, I'm happy that you're so excited about it honey, really." Just a pity he couldn't be there.

Fancy smiled sadly, obviously thinking the same thing.

...

_Hey everyone! Please leave me a review to let me know me what you thought! I'm horribly fascinated when it comes to knowing how others might view the characters and the way I portray them and the situations I put them in. _

_I'd be eternally grateful to hear your opinion! Thank-you :D _


	2. Fancy was Playing her Role

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

_# This takes place while Luis is waiting to be executed. It is very close to the day of execution but he hasn't had any thoughts of marrying Fancy yet. Sheridan did do all those awful things except she didn't completely destroy Fancy's credibility in court or admit she still wanted Luis on the stands. Instead her testimony was inconsequential. Sheridan also has no idea who Fancy's real attacker is. And she never visited Luis in jail. #_

Sheridan couldn't move her eyes from the fire in front of her. She was sitting in her cottage; it was noon, curled up in a corner of her couch and holding a stone cold cup of tea. She'd been that way for over two hours now.

Luis was going to be dead soon. A matter of days.

She couldn't go through it again.

She remembered what it had felt like the last time she had thought Luis gone from this world; her world. The authors always say that the world, when you lose the one you love, becomes colourless. Bleak. That was true. But they didn't tell her that the gaping panic, pain and shock you feel that moment you find out that your other half has gone doesn't dissipate.

She had been lost. So utterly, terribly lost and frightened. The shock of his being alive hadn't really sunk in and registered until he had come back from Rome. She wasn't able to let herself believe in something she had been praying, crying and dreaming of the entire time he had been 'dead'. His sudden re-emergence into the living hadn't simply wiped out the pain of his passing.

By the time she had really accepted the fact that Luis was alive and well, accepted and trusted that he wasn't a dream, that he wasn't going to disappear, she had suddenly not only lost Marty all over again but her unborn child too.

Her reality had simply become too much for her to bear.

And no one saw her drowning.

Not even Luis, captured as he was in his own despair of losing her and his son.

She hadn't been ready for anything else to happen in her life, good or bad. She had just needed the hits to stop coming for one second. One moment of peace so she could try and catch her breath and re-right her world.

But that hadn't happened, had it?

Sheridan breathed out slowly; blue eyes still intent on the now glowing embers. The familiar feeling of a warm wetness on her cheeks had her chuckling bitterly.

"God," she laughed softly but there wasn't any real humour in her voice. "I'm pathetic." Sheridan leaned forward and placed her cold tea on the coffee table in front of her.

Catching sight of her window out of the corner of her eye she noticed that the sun must have set some time ago as it was pitch black outside and the only light in the house was the red glow from the dying fire.

Moving on auto-pilot, Sheridan rose gracefully from the couch and added two large logs of firewood from the dwindling stack on the left.

She always forgot to get the firewood. Even after all this time, after Antonio, Beth, fights, 'death', she still never thought to do it.

Luis had always made sure she never ran out. He would worry, joke about her beng cold blooded because of how much she felt the cold but he would always make sure her cottage was warm in the winter.

Sheridan raised shaking fingers to her pale cheeks and wiped away the silent tears.

She had to get out of here; there were too many memories. Good and bad.

The clock on her mantle piece chimed softly in the silent, red glow and Sheridan counted them as she walked briskly towards the front door. Eleven.

One hour until tomorrow. One hour to a day closer to Luis's execution.

Grabbing the coat that hung next to the door, not bothering to make sure it was a warm one or that it had gloves in the pocket, she walked out, welcoming the cold frosty air with a chocking gasp of relief. There was no way she was heading into town. The thought of actually bumping into someone she knew was almost unbearable. They all hated her. She was the evil, bitter old aunt standing in the way of the epic romance of young, beautiful Fancy Crane and the handsome, honourable Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald.

Sheridan closed her eyes in despair as the thought she'd spent the last weeks trying unsuccessfully to shut out invaded her mind once again.

"He hates me." The broken whisper carried on the gentle wind but there wasn't anyone to hear it.

Slowly, Sheridan turned in the direction of the immense woodland which stood behind her cottage all the way to the cliffs. The Cranes had owned it for years and, unknown to everyone; she had purchased the land under another name two years ago when she had learned that her Father wanted to sell the land for construction. She had no intention of allowing Alistair to decimate this forest.

Without a sound Sheridan stepped onto the single dirt path amongst the trees and went forward, her pace fast.

She had to leave. She had to escape. Escape it, the situation, her life...escape him.

Sheridan didn't like to remember the time, the time when Luis returned from Rome.

She had lost Marty all over again. Her baby. Her life. She couldn't even stand to look at Chris; he was a problem she just didn't know how to handle.

She had needed time.

She had needed understanding.

She had needed patience and peace.

Instead, Sheridan lost the one thing holding her fragile sanity together. Luis. His presence. His assurance. His love.

She wasn't so vain as to think that Luis couldn't or wouldn't move on, but he knew her. He should have given her that time, that single breath of time to try and understand her world so that she could go back to him. Because that was all she'd really ever wanted. To be his. And he hers.

Not only had Luis not given her that breath, that patience, but he removed his support altogether.

She hadn't been prepared.

She couldn't begin to explain the shock and horror that had moved through her that day when Luis and Fancy showed up at Little Ethan's baseball match together.

It was shock that had sent her to see him that night, and it was also shock that had stopped her from verbalising her thoughts and feelings.

Fancy was stubborn. More stubborn than her, Luis said.

Luis had pulled Fancy over for speeding, had arrested her.

Fancy and Luis bickered and argued while exchanging looks while the other thought they weren't watching.

It was nightmare.

A nightmare she couldn't escape.

She was watching herself and Luis; their story, except Fancy was playing her role and what was more, she was playing it better than Sheridan.

That last float in the middle of a storming ocean was stolen unceremoniously, without warning, from her desperate hold.

And she sank, drowning beneath the unyielding waves of her grief and misery, tormented by the deepening relationship between Fancy and Luis. Sheridan had lost him.

But the thing that broke Sheridan completely was how well she had been replaced.

"I'm nobody." Sheridan murmured through her tears as she rested against a freezing cold tree next to the path. "I'm nobody."

On top of everything else she simply couldn't handle it. And she lashed out.

Sheridan sank to the ground, her head buried on the tops of her knees as her shoulders shook uncontrollably.

"They all hate me...Luis hates me." Her gasping mantra, the words almost unintelligible from the force of her sobs echoed the unceasing screams of recrimination and self-loathing in her head.

...

_Please review! I've wanted to write Sheridan's side of the story, so to speak, since I watched in horror Luis and Fancy getting together. I couldn't get over the fact that Luis did not give her that time to digest his being alive, what that meant to her new marriage and then the loss of Marty. She never saw it coming and she wasn't given any chance by Luis, not really, to actually breathe._

_What do you think? Do you think Im's right? Dead wrong? Please, review and tell me ;D_


	3. Counter and Compliment

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Passions

Pilar walked silently into the empty, yet, open church and took a seat at one of the pews; sliding to kneel she bowed her head, closed her eyes and began to pray.

Miguel had been released and cleared of all charges but her eldest son, her Luis; her darling boy was going to be executed tomorrow. She loved all her children equally, she did, but Luis was the child she was most proud of. She saw all the best traits of his parents in him and she respected him more than anyone.

Luis touched the life of every person he encountered. He had a presence that she didn't know an equal to. Except perhaps Alistair, as awful a comparison as it was, Alistair, when he walked into a room was always the person looked to.

Yes, completely opposite personalities but their strength, their purpose, their importance was equal. It was one of the reasons, Pilar believed, that Alistair tried so hard to break up Sheridan and her son. Luis was a cop of a small town, however, Alistair, one of the most powerful, ruthless men in the world felt threatened enough by him being so close to Crane Industry dealings that he stopped at nothing to tear them apart.

Of course, that was also at a time when her son thought Sheridan an earth bound angel. Her daughter, Theresa, had changed her tune completely from talking about Luis and Sheridan as soul-mates to Fancy and Luis having a fresh, true love.

Pilar respected her son far too much to ever dictate whom he should love but privately she thought that Luis was being deliberately blind. He needed a break; at least, that was how it appeared to her. She liked Fancy, sort of, Sheridan was far better suited to Luis. At least, she had thought so.

Sheridan was a difficult person not to love. She radiated a kindness and light but it was tempered with worldly eyes. She wasn't naive. She was Luis's other half. Luis was a hard person to stand beside for the sole reason that he usually dwarfed his companion. The only one Pilar had ever seen hold her own against him, effortlessly, was Sheridan. She also was one who drew people in. Her charisma and charm were attributes which had both helped and hindered the woman.

She drew people like a moth to a flame, Luis countered and complimented her. Unlike when they were in other relationships where each of their personalities ended up overwhelming their partner, Luis and Sheridan fit and satisfied each other.

Pilar had always found them wonderful to be around when they were together.

That's why she was having such trouble these past few weeks. More than perhaps anyone, she understood what it felt like to be undercut, as it were. She had been able to tell that Sheridan was reaching a breaking point, but even she hadn't seen Fancy coming, or what Luis and everyone in Harmony's reaction to their new romance would do to her.

But it didn't matter did it? Pilar bowed her head further so that her brown hair fell forward and covered her red eyes and tear stained cheeks. Her darling boy, her Luis, was going to leave them. She could hardly get past her bitterness, Luis hadn't done anything, everyone knew he was innocent and still...he was going to die.

"Excuse me, Pilar, is that you?" A soft voice called.

Pilar hastily wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. "Father, yes, it's me. I didn't expect anyone to be up this late."

The priest smiled gently and carefully felt along the pew for a grip before lowering himself into the spot beside her.

"It is difficult to sleep with such a tragedy on our doorstep, Pilar. I can't imagine how difficult Luis's situation is on you and your family. Is there anything I might do to help in some way?"

Pilar shook her head violently and opened her purse to grab a tissue. "No, Father. Nothing could make this better." She said sharply.

Hearing the emotion and warning in that tone Father Lonnigan waited a few moments, listening as Pilar blew her nose, rearranged her hair and generally got a hold of her-self before venturing to speak again.

"I'm sorry if my words upset you in anyway Pilar, please know, that was not my intention."

Pilar exhaled loudly, a small corner of her mouth curling up without humour. "I know, Father."

The silence between them stretched, but not uncomfortably. "I wonder, Pilar, if I might ask you a question?"

"You may as well, Father, I can't see myself getting much rest tonight."

"No, I can't imagine so. I wanted to enquire after a matter which has been causing me both concern and consternation."

"Yes?" Pilar asked.

"A number of my parishioners have come to me in recent weeks with an alarming lack of sympathy and anger, I think, for one in our community who always been very much liked. I wonder if you might be kind enough to explain the situation to me."

Pilar frowned. She could only imagine one person Father Lonnigan might bring up with her. "Are you referring to Sheridan Crane?" she asked tightly.

He nodded slowly. "I am."

Pilar drew in a deep breath. "I can't say that I'm surprised. I'll begin by saying that I have been startled and taken aback by Sheridan's actions in the past months, when she spoke her testimony in Luis's trial her words were...unhelpful."

"In what way?" He interrupted, concerned.

Pilar tilted her head to the side. "What she said was not damaging, it was more her body language and obvious reluctance to be there. But I do remember one question and her answer in particular. She was asked whether she thought Fancy Crane fickle with a short attention span. Obviously, the lawyer was trying to show that Fancy's assurance that the man that raped her was not Luis couldn't be trusted. All Sheridan had to do was answer with a quick and decisive 'no'. But she didn't, Sheridan just sat there looking panicked for long moments before she finally shook her head."

"Ah." Father Lonnigan nodded in understanding. "You too hold great anger in you for Sheridan" he observed.

Pilar clenched her teeth tightly. "I thought she cared for Luis. She knows him to be innocent, everyone knows him to be innocent and she contributed to his sentence."

"That isn't true Pilar and you know it isn't." He pacified. "It seems clear to me that you and a few others are looking for someone to blame. This illusive blackmailer isn't enough without a face. You all have so much anger for the injustice which has captured Luis that you need to find a place to place it. Unfortunately for Sheridan, that scapegoat seems to be her."

Pilar could feel the truth and wisdom of his words but she needed to voice all of her suspicions, suspicions that she knew fuelled the anger others were feeling for Sheridan right now, deserving or not. "But Father, Luis is with Fancy now, what if her response in court was motivated by revenge? What if she purposefully did that so as to punish Luis? When Fancy was raped Sheridan used her good reputation as a kind and decent woman to influence people into thinking Fancy was imagining the attacker!"

"Pilar," he replied sternly. "These are simply theories, not fact, Sheridan using her reputation to influence? It sounds to me that Sheridan was stating an opinion and because of others knowing she is a good person, that opinion was taken seriously and, unfortunately she was wrong. It just happens that Sheridan's mistake was one which was in a terrible circumstance. However, Sheridan did not commit these crimes, she was not the only one with this opinion as I have heard, it was a difficult situation for all and for you to call it purposeful manipulation Pilar..."

Pilar could feel her heart sinking even further in her chest as the Father gently reprimanded her. But he was right. It was their choice to listen to Sheridan and Sheridan merely offered an opinion that was wrong, and she wasn't the only one to see it that way. Pilar knew, in fact, that the person most willing to believe her, Luis, thought Fancy had imagined the attacker too.

"It's because her opinion matters to Luis so much Father." Pilar whispered, defeated. "I know that my son, everyone, didn't believe Fancy really saw the attacker. It was the Crane mansion, party downstairs, security was crawling everywhere and victims often live in fear and suspicion for the rest of their lives after such an attack. But Sheridan was one of the ones who spoke up and her words seemed to settle any lingering doubts, small as they were, about the situation."

"And for Fancy to later be attacked once again..." Father Lonnigan added, nodding sadly.

"It was so easy to blame her, Father. It makes it harder, not having someone to be angry at..." Pilar cried.

"I know. And I don't think you really blame Sheridan for her less than confident answer in court, am I correct, Pilar? The anger harboured by others seems to be over Sheridan's opinion that Fancy might have been exaggerating, dreaming of past horrors. That, and her influence over Luis, however small it was."

"Yes." Pilar confirmed. "She swore to tell only the truth and I know, having worked for the Crane's that Fancy was fickle, it is a cross which the spoilt must often bare. Sheridan knows that Fancy has improved much since her return to Harmony but I can understand her momentary loss of words."

They both sat in silence, simply listening to the wind sing through the church until Pilar once again broke down, the Father comforting her with silent strength.

"I will see you before tomorrow, Pilar. Please, pray, God may yet deliver Luis safely away from danger."

"Thank-you Father." Pilar hoped with all her heart that their prayers would be answered.

...

_Please review! What do you think? I definitely want to know ;D_


	4. Black Seemed Premature

Disclaimer: I do not own passions

Fancy couldn't decide what to wear.

And that was stupid. Because she was an attractive woman and looked good in most things so this shouldn't be this hard and because she was dressing for an execution.

The execution of the man she loved more than she thought she could ever love anything.

So, it was stupid. But even knowing that a clothing dilemma had absolutely no place on a day like today Fancy couldn't help it.

What do you wear to the execution of Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald? The literal man of her dreams!

You don't want to think about it but it has to be done. Black seemed premature. It wasn't a funeral just...the prearranged time of someone's death, she thought sarcastically. Nor could she just turn up in a tracksuit, she didn't want Luis to worry about her and Fancy was always impeccably dressed. For her to exit a house in a tracksuit...well, let's just say that it was screaming nervous breakdown in her language.

With the smallest of frustrated sobs she threw her arms up into the air and let herself fall back onto her bed. "This shouldn't be this hard!" She screamed angrily.

The sound of two sharp knocks on her Princess bedroom door had Fancy sitting up quickly and wiping the tears gathering in her eyes away. "Come in." She yelled.

The white wood door opened and a dark raven head popped through the opening and gave her a small, understanding smile. "Morning, sweetie." Theresa said softly as she stepped fully into the room in her classic pant suit. "How are you?" She asked.

Fancy gave a disbelieving huff of air and just looked at the woman that she had thought for sure would have been her sister in law some day.

"Yeah," Theresa chuckled dryly, no humour in her, "me too. But, the wide open closet doors, multiple shoes strewn about the place and the fact that I heard what is no doubt a ridiculously expensive handbag hit the wall not two minutes ago, I'm guessing you need some help."

Fancy managed a small laugh and smiled at the small woman gratefully. "I just can't seem to find an outfit, which is the most absurd thing I think I have ever heard in the world but, that doesn't make it any less true."

"Let's see what I can find." Theresa smiled.

The tiny Latino-Irish woman moved purposefully over to the enormous closet and without any fan-fair took a two second glance of the interior before reaching in and pulling out a pair of designer jeans, pink cashmere sweater and a white knee length coat. "Here." She passed the clothes to Fancy and pointed to the pair of black leather knee high boots on opposite sides of the room. "This, with those shoes you threw away a couple of minutes ago should do. Luis would want his last sight to be of you, and you always look stunning in pink." She grinned with watery eyes.

Fancy eyed the perfect ensemble blindly but nodded her head in agreement. She did want to look nice for Luis. It was just...

"I can't believe this is happening! It's not fair! He didn't do anything but try to protect me and look at what it's cost him!" Fancy cried.

Theresa's dark black eyes hardened immediately and she reached out and took Fancy's perfectly French manicured hands into her own strong grasp. "No Fancy. That's simply not true and you know it. What has happened to Luis...no one can believe it, trust me on that. Not even with me using all of the Crane power and influence could his sentence be changed. You have nothing to blame yourself for."

"But..."

"No." Theresa cut in firmly. "If anyone besides the blackmailer is to be blamed, it's Sheridan."

The familiar hostile words directed towards her Aunt calmed her. Fancy was thankful for one thing that had come out of this horrific ordeal, at least. Sheridan Crane had been exposed for the witch that she was and the Lopez-Fitzgerald's and everyone else in Harmony who didn't listen to her when she was saying that Sheridan couldn't be trusted before now had their proof.

"A part of me is still in shock over what Sheridan did..." Theresa murmured softly, as if she were thinking out loud and not talking to Fancy but, nevertheless, the words felt like scalding water to her and Fancy immediately jerked her hands back and jumped up from the bed, rounding on Theresa with angry, accusing eyes.

"What?!" Fancy hissed venomously. "After Sheridan convinced everyone I was imagining my attacker leading to me being raped for a second time and allowing Luis to be framed for the assault, what? That's not enough for you? After the way she completely undermined my testimony in court where I stated that Luis simply couldn't have committed this crime, that still isn't enough for all of you?!" She screamed furiously. "Why does everyone in this town think Sheridan could do no wrong? I had to fight the biggest uphill battle of my life to be taken seriously in my words against Sheridan and it was only through getting raped again that she was even questioned! How is that fair! How can you even say...!"

"Fancy, Fancy, Fancy!" Theresa finally broke through the blonde's hysterical outburst. "I wasn't saying that! I promise! But you need to understand that Sheridan has been in all of our lives' for years and it isn't that we don't believe you," she stressed, "We just can't believe that we never saw how much of a Crane Sheridan really is." Theresa explained, pacifying the other woman.

"I'm sorry," Fancy apologised as she ran her fingernails through her hair, sweeping it to the side. "It's just..." Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip hard as if reconsidering how wise it would be of her to voice her thoughts.

Theresa, however, narrowed her eyes determinedly. "What?"

Fancy seemed to hesitate for a moment, glancing towards Theresa uncertainly before she shook her head and sighed. "Nothing, it's nothing and more importantly, it doesn't matter. Not now, not anymore." She said sadly.

Theresa's eyes softened, "Fancy, I can't begin to imagine the hell your life has been for the last year but please, if something is playing on your mind enough to disturb you so much, especially today of all days, perhaps it would help to talk about it." She coaxed.

Fancy sighed in resignation. "It's just that sometimes...there are times when I think that Luis still doesn't see Sheridan's part in all of this," she held up a hand to forestall the indignant interruption of the man's sister, "I know, I know. Luis's eyes have certainly been opened in regards to Sheridan's true character and I know that Luis isn't in denial where she's concerned."

"Then what is it?"

"It hardly matters now, does it?" She laughed brokenly but at Theresa's steady stare Fancy relented, "She has such a hold on him. Even now. That hold might not be the loving positive one of before but..." Fancy looked at Theresa unflinchingly. "It makes me furious to know that even with all Sheridan has done I can't stand here and tell you that the man I love, Luis, feels nothing for my Aunt anymore. I want to. Desperately. I want to know that I own his whole heart, like he owns all of mine. I think I do," Fancy smiled in sad happiness, "but if he dies now," she shook her head, "the doubts will always be there no matter how small. We just found each other! It's not fair! And I don't want him to leave me before I know that his heart, his whole heart, is mine forever."

"It is."

Fancy looked up to see Theresa smiling widely at her, tears trickling down her face."It is." She nodded at her.

But despite the confident assurance of the other woman Fancy couldn't help but think that when Sheridan Crane walks into a room, Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald always noticed.

"I love him so much." Fancy said solemnly.

"As he does you." Theresa assured, but on this point Fancy needed no assurance. She knew that even if she had doubts about owning the whole of Luis's heart she certainly had a far greater share than any other person in the world.

She smiled sadly but with absolute confidence. "I know."

...

He couldn't sleep. Not an unexpected situation in view of the fact his execution was at 9am tomorrow. Glancing out his small barred window Luis glimpsed the faint pink hue of the arriving sun and mentally corrected himself; today, 9am today.

Moreover, considering his life would be over in just a few hours and he was forced to sit in this small, cold cell waiting as every second passed faster than the last with no distraction, his mind shouldn't have been able to leave the thought of that lethal injection. And it didn't. It's just that it wasn't the thought refusing to be pushed aside. She was.

Sheridan.

He couldn't help it. He was furious with her but the thought that she wouldn't visit him while he was in jail had never crossed his mind and as unthinkable as it was Luis was beginning to wonder if she'd even turn up for his execution.

And he realised that he wanted her there, desperately wanted to see her face again.

He needed her to be there.

He'd never even contemplated the thought that she wouldn't be.

Why hadn't she been to see him?! Was it pride?! Guilt?! He clenched his fists and pressed them angrily into his forehead.

And the most important question of all; why on earth was he thinking of Sheridan and not Fancy? The woman he was madly in love with? Fancy was great, she had been great. Through this whole ordeal and even before that with her violent assault the way she had pulled herself together was incredible.

Perhaps it was simply habit, Luis thought, sighing as he lowered his arms, He had spent years in love with Sheridan, she had been a part of every aspect of his life.

It was also why he couldn't get over her actions in the last six months or so, longer even. The way she had down-played Fancy's trauma, trying repeatedly to pull him away from her niece's side, her attitude, everything. But mostly it was the swing in her personality which shocked him the most, angered him because he thought he knew every part of Sheridan intimately, as she did him. The Sheridan he had fallen in love with simply wouldn't do those things. She would never, not for an instant put her jealousy above the safety of Fancy.

He didn't understand.

He clearly didn't know her.

And that made him angry.

Luis looked up silently when one of the two guards at his door called his name.

"Let's go, buddy, time's a wasting." His colleague beside him chuckled at the bad tasted joke and Luis got to his feet without a word.

As he made his way down the numerous corridors to the room his execution would be held in Luis realised that in this moment, when his life was about to end, it didn't matter.

It didn't matter that she had hurt him.

It didn't matter that her actions were still so shocking to him that he wasn't sure this feeling of being lost would ever go away.

It didn't matter that he felt as if he'd lost her all over again through her actions.

It didn't matter that he was furious that she decided she wanted him back as soon as he began to move on.

It didn't matter that Fancy was perfect for him and he should be thinking of her.

Because in the end; he wasn't.

In the end the only thing that consumed him totally as Luis walked through that final door, glimpsing faces of the waiting crowd of family and friends was the desperate wish, desperate plea for one face.

His angel.

...

_Hey all! Please review and tell me what you thought! I'm terribly curious and would love to know whether you all think it worth me continuing to post updates. I've got the next chapter written and have just got to polish it before uploading it but I do want to know whether you guys are enjoying the story! After all not much point putting the next chapter up if no one wants to read it! ;D_


	5. This was Breaking Her

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

Sheridan glanced up sharply and met the fiery, crystal blue eyes of Fancy Crane. She'd slipped silently in amongst the back of the impressively large crowd of devastated people who had turned up to support Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald hoping to go unseen.

She gasped in shock, not prepared for the strength of emotion suddenly being directed her way and it was all she could do not to let the tears clogging her throat fall. As the hours had passed slowly during yet another sleepless night in her cottage her heart felt as if an ever increasing weight was being lowered onto it.

She knew all the people now looking at her accusingly, as if they didn't believe she had had the gall to actually show up today didn't think she had the right to be upset about Luis. She had contributed to the judge's decision after all. But it was so hard. She was feeling too much. What she had done to Fancy was horrifying, what her actions had wrought on all of them threw her into such a deep well of self loathing Sheridan doubted she would ever manage to climb out.

But even that crushing guilt didn't, in this moment, compare to the grief breaking the tiny shards left of her heart.

And this was breaking her.

But they wouldn't accept her tears, she knew. They would see them as an insult; false sadness. It seemed an impossible task but the least she could do for them was to somehow hold them back.

Sheridan saw Pilar turn from her position beside Fancy, surrounded by the arms of her daughter, Theresa, who was glaring at her with an expression she recognised as one she only directed Gwen's way when she did something truly abhorrent.

"Um..."Sheridan's voice trembled noticeably as she wrung her hands tightly in front of her, "I'm sorry," do you want me to go? Was on the tip of her tongue. It was right thing to do, to offer but she was too frightened that they would say yes. She didn't have the right, no one wanted her here, she was even making an impossible situation worse but she couldn't not be here when Luis...she was a horrible person.

Her muttered apology seemed to incense Fancy like a red flag would a bull but before she could open her mouth to scream at her to get out Pilar placed a restraining hand on the blonde's forearm. "Don't Fancy. Not now...not now." Pilar was clearly distraught but Sheridan saw the comforting squeeze she gave Fancy and her gut clenched.

She was something to be endured.

"Sheridan?" A soft feminine voice whispered to her left, "Are you alright? Sorry, I don't mean alright, no-one could be alright with this but I just meant...are you well? Would you like to sit down?"

Sheridan looked into the sad brown eyes of Luis's youngest sibling, Paloma, and felt the familiar warmth of affection she had always inspired in her far beneath her grief. She wanted to ask why Paloma was even asking after the health of a person she hated but even those words wouldn't come. She simply nodded robotically while trying to shrink into as small as space as possible, her eyes locked on the door on the right, behind the plastic floor to ceiling window which had just opened.

And there he was.

Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald.

And he hated her.

And he was going to die.

Seeing those black brown eyes begin to sweep over the crowd searchingly, Sheridan quickly sunk back behind the taller individuals in front of her hoping to God that she remained unseen to his sharp eyes. Luis had always seen her in the past. She had always been the first he looked for, the one he was most delighted and desperate to see. Not anymore though, she reminded herself firmly even as a sharp stab of pain lanced through her heart at the knowledge.

She didn't think she could bear to see the shocked distaste which would cloud his brave eyes followed by the inevitable gentlemanly tolerance of her appearance here today. He wouldn't make a scene; Sheridan knew that. Luis wouldn't want to make this even more painful for his family and love. But even if she knew that he wouldn't demand she leave, Sheridan didn't want to live with the knowledge that he wished she had.

Her held breath escaped her silently as she watched, hidden, as those incredible eyes left the area where she stood, only to feel her sad relief freeze in her veins a moment later and her heart plummet.

It shouldn't have even mattered at this point. Sheridan didn't know that she was even capable of feeling worse over such a petty thing but when Luis's eyes met Fancy's and he smiled reassuringly at her she couldn't help it.

It hurt.

And then that feeling started welling again, that emotion that she had learnt to fear and hate more than almost anything; jealousy.

My God, surrounded by grief, panic and despair the fact that she even had room for such an emotion truly sickened her.

"Please, please, please, no, this can't be happening...I don't..." Sheridan heard as Pilar finally lost control over whatever strength had kept her upright as she dissolved into tears unable to get the words out through her great gasping sobs.

But her broken blue eyes refused to leave Luis's form as they slowly strapped him down on the table. She didn't want to live through this again. His death. The last time she had thought he had left her alone in the world her emotions were so distraught she ended up becoming obsessed with another woman's child and then marrying Chris so that he wouldn't take James away from her.

"Does the prisoner have any last words?" The overseer intoned calmly. Sheridan held her breath for just a moment, not wanting to miss the sound of his voice.

Luis didn't say anything right away, those black eyes again sweeping the crowd and, again, she made sure that he didn't see her there. It was the least she could do if she couldn't even given him the peace the absence of her presence would bring him.

"Just that I'm proud to have known you all. To have been a part of this town's community and that I love my family dearly and..." He paused, as if he was forcibly stopping himself from voicing particular words, "and..." Her breathing was loud, at least it seemed that way to her as Luis stumbled over his words and Sheridan felt her heart clench painfully, "It's alright." No, it wasn't. This wasn't right. It couldn't have been more wrong. But it was happening.

She could see the final preparations beginning to happen now. Like a time bomb she had no hope of escaping. Incredibly, more weight seemed to add itself to her chest until dragging air in and out of her lungs seemed too painful a task.

She didn't want to go through it again! She didn't! She didn't! She couldn't! Her thoughts were a wail of distraught panic and it took everything she had not to verbalise her pain in some small way as she watched, helplessly, as the final preparations seemed to race and the actual execution was suddenly now.

Without directing the action her white hand came up to at her throat defensively, as if her subconscious was, in a futile attempt, trying to ward off the hell it knew was coming.

And that's when it happened.

Her world fell out from underneath her as those dark, dark brown eyes suddenly found her in the crowd.

Her heart stilled. Her breath ceased and everything else just disappeared.

Those eyes, those black eyes she loved so much stared at her, not letting her go. Not for a moment. She didn't know if it was shock at seeing her here or something else but in a world spinning out of control, those eyes kept her grounded, as they always had.

And then she saw something in them that managed to pierce even the shattered remains of her heart; fear. He didn't want to die. He wasn't ready to, she could see that clear as day, and he shouldn't have to.

A tiny, barely there, broken smile curled up the corner's of her lips bravely. Sheridan knew he hated her, couldn't stand the sight of her but she couldn't stop her instinctive need to give Luis some sort of comfort, even if he didn't want it from her.

He gave no obvious outward sign that the small gesture had meant anything to him but Sheridan caught the minute way some of the tiny wrinkles at his eyes relaxed even as she saw that the liquid was about to be injected into him.

Tears blurred the image horribly and she couldn't have been more furious with herself as, against her will, she lost sight of those eyes, but she couldn't help it!

Cries, shouts of anger, everything it all came to a halt in absolute silence and she knew this was it. She just let the tears fall, at this point what did it matter? And as her vision instantly cleared she was startled to find Luis still staring at her silently; his eyes intense.

She didn't know why but she thanked the heavens for the small mercy of being able to see him if only for one instant more.

"NO! No! Wait! Stop, stop!"

No-one knew why that particular cry stopped everyone in their tracks. It certainly wasn't the only voice using those words but it did. Perhaps it was the very real panicked demand absent of any grief like the others. Perhaps it was the fact that the voice clearly actually meant the demand to be followed rather than a simple denial of reality.

Whatever it was, Sheridan had never heard a sweeter sound.

Dr Eve Russel was standing in the centre of the room, her arms stretched wide as if to physically stop any further actions. "Stop! Luis is innocent, I have proof!" Her body seemed to straighten slowly and a haunted look entered her eyes as she whispered, "I have the real culprit."

Everything after that happened very quickly. The identity of Vincent as the blackmailer and Fancy's attacker was exposed; the mentally unstable man restrained and calls for Luis's release answered.

Sheridan remained absolutely silent throughout the next fifteen minutes, forgotten in the flurry of activity and joy. Her emotions were frayed and she felt tired beyond belief. She knew she ought to have left by now, she didn't want to ruin such happiness with her presence but she couldn't make her feet move. She needed to see Luis come through that door, free of chains before she left.

Once again the level of her selfishness shamed her. Still, she didn't move.

And then the simple door opened. "Luis! Oh Luis! My boy! My sweet, sweet boy!" Pilar was embracing her second son the second he had one foot into the packed room, tear tracks unceasing on her cheeks as she smiled and laughed and kissed his face again and again.

"Mama," Luis's laughing tone seemed to release her body from its frozen state and, smiling gently Sheridan looked at the floor nodded her head once and quietly slipped from the room.

Her relief was enormous and she used the energy the emotion gave her to swiftly carry her away from the one person she desperately wished to embrace. Not only was that not her place anymore but she was sure Luis would not welcome the warm action after her behaviour. And the last thing she wanted was to arouse suspicions that she was going to cause trouble between him and Fancy again.

No, she smiled humourlessly at the floor as she walked across the black and white marble foyer, she didn't think she was strong enough at the moment to survive the single-minded distain of the entire town.

"Aunt Sheridan!" The sharp call stopped her in her tracks.

Sheridan closed her eyes tightly in denial, "Would you at least have the common courtesy of facing me when I speak to you?" Fancy's icy words had her wincing but she silently obeyed and, taking a deep breath to try and steady herself, turned around.

When it became apparent that Sheridan wasn't going to say anything Fancy's eyes narrowed, "What the hell were you thinking turning up here today?! After everything you have done to Luis and I, the pain you have put everyone through, how could you?!"

Sheridan breathed out slowly, "I'm sorry, Fancy. I know that that doesn't mean a thing to you but please, I need you to know that I didn't mean to cause you such pain."

Her niece's eyes seemed to flare with rage, "You're right. That doesn't mean a damn thing to me."

Sheridan bowed her head in acceptance, her figure very obviously defeated and Fancy felt a large thrill of satisfaction to see the strong woman so clearly broken.

They were completely alone in the foyer, everyone still with Luis; celebrating, but Fancy had seen the still undeniably beautiful Sheridan Crane quietly exit the room and without a moment's hesitation had followed her. She had seen the way Luis had stared at her Aunt for long moments, the important last moments before Eve had stopped the execution. Luis had caught Fancy's eye when he had been escorted into the chamber and had smiled at her gently in reassurance.

Luis had just been shocked by Sheridan's appearance; shocked enough that he hadn't been able to stop from staring incredulously at the very much unexpected figure of the elder Crane woman. There was not a single doubt in her mind that that was why he had spent what he had thought were his last moments staring at her. But she wanted to make sure that her psychotic Aunt didn't misconstrue the action into some make believe romantic version of him still being in love with her.

"I want you to stay away from Luis. I don't want you to talk to him, look at him, nothing!" Fancy spat out through gritted teeth.

A long moment of silence passed before Sheridan's soft, hesitant voice spoke, "Fancy...I shouldn't worry..."

"I'm not worried!" Fancy cut her off quickly. "Believe me; I know exactly how disgusted Luis feels about you, I'm just warning you now. Don't try and scheme to steal Luis away from me, don't even bother. Everyone has seen you for exactly who you are, Aunt Sheridan, and what you're capable of. Including Luis. Even if he hadn't fallen in love with me, he doesn't want you anywhere near him now, no-one does." Fancy stated with a confidence that let Sheridan know that she wasn't bluffing, she was telling the absolute truth.

Sheridan heard a helpless sort of laugh escape her. This was certainly not news to her. She knew exactly how reviled she was in Harmony right now, so blatant a sentiment would be impossible to hide even if they had tried to.

"It's alright, Fancy. I'm well aware. I was merely going to say that I wouldn't worry; Luis wants absolutely nothing to do with me." She replied solemnly, looking her niece directly in her eyes so Fancy would knew that she wasn't living in denial of Luis's true feelings for her.

As the soft click of stiletto heels hitting the floor echoed in the room Sheridan had time to feel her despair sink even further before a woman's forceful words filled the silence. "I'm glad to see you aren't living in a deluded fantasy world anymore, Sheridan." The starkly attractive female Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald came to a stop beside Fancy with her arms crossed, staring Sheridan down darkly.

She needn't have bothered though. Neither of them. The warning off wasn't needed. The last thing in the world Sheridan wanted to do was confront Luis.

"Fancy, Luis is looking for you," Sheridan turned from the conversation she had so clearly been dismissed from and quickly hurried away. Still, she didn't miss Theresa's next words, didn't think that she had been meant to. They certainly hurt and they achieved in letting her know in no uncertain terms that she had been fully replaced. "We're all going to Mama's for a celebration, you're practically family, Luis will want you there."

She deserved it. She deserved exactly what she had gotten but that knowledge didn't stop the pain she felt at those words. The Lopez-Fitzgerald's had always treated her like family. In the past, her presence would have been both wanted and expected; now it was Fancy in her place.

She pushed the heavy door in front of her open and took a deep shuddering breath of the freezing air. Snow fell gently from the sky but she couldn't seem to appreciate its beauty like she used to. Walking hastily to her car, Sheridan let the tears fall silently down her pale cheeks, the cold wind catching the moisture and sending the smallest of painful pricks along her skin as it dried.

She had never felt so broken or as fragile as she did right now.

Her life was a ruin.

Unlocking her car and sliding into the interior quickly, Sheridan wasted no time in turning on the engine and reversing out of the car park and into the street. It was only once she was moving away from the prison and towards her cottage that she let the sobs trapped in her chest loose, her shoulders shaking with the force of them, her vision completely obscured but she didn't care.

She just cried.

...

Luis couldn't wipe the grin off his face. It seemed an impossible task as he sat; surrounded by his family and the woman he loved in his Mother's living room. A place he had never thought to see again.

"Oh, mijo, I prayed and prayed for this. It truly feels like a Christmas miracle." Pilar was practically glowing with happiness and Luis chuckled at his Mother's words good naturedly.

"I can't say that the word miracle didn't enter my mind when I heard Dr Russel start speaking today, Mama. But I am a grateful." He grinned.

Feeling warmth in his hand Luis looked down startled at the unexpected movement, to see a pale limb squeezing his own tightly. Glancing up quickly he smiled at Fancy's expectant expression before allowing himself to be distracted by Miguel.

For a moment there, the unfamiliar and unexpected touch had shocked him. The hand was too big, the fingers too bony and the grasp too possessive. It hadn't felt right. And he felt angry when he realised that he had expected, wanted the touch of a hand much smaller and daintier, with fingers which always seemed to be cold. Sheridan's hand.

Irritated by the subconscious desire Luis raised their grasped hands to his mouth and laid a kiss on the back of hers in defiance of the unwanted feeling.

"Aw, you guys are so cute!" Theresa squealed.

...

_AN: what did you guys think? Like it? No? I'd love it if you could review and let me know! ;D_


	6. Hidden Sharpness

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

Fancy grinned widely as Theresa's thrilled squeal of delight echoed around the small homey living room. Almost immediately, most of the room's occupants had followed Theresa's line of vision to Luis's affectionate action and were smiling and chuckling along with her.

"Cute, Theresa? Not sure that that was exactly what Luis was going for." Miguel laughingly teased his older brother.

"Well, no matter what Luis was 'going for' as you say Miguel, he and Fancy look adorable together." Theresa grinned.

"Alright, enough, you two." Luis intervened, just as he always had throughout their childhood.

Fancy leaned into the warmth of Luis's side and smiled with utter contentment. She had never felt so happy. Accepted into a warm loving family who wanted her and loved by a man such as Luis, all her dreams had come true.

"I think she's right." Fancy said impishly to Luis and leaned in to kiss his mouth as he turned his head towards her. It wasn't very well timed and she ended up hitting her nose against the underside of his jaw. "Ouch!" She laughed happily. Luis pulled back sharply, "Woman, you are a danger to those around you, as you always are!"

Fancy pretended to pout up at him but couldn't hold the expression. He was just so handsome, she realised for the millionth time since she'd met him and again wondered at her good fortune. Dark, chocolate brown eyes that were practically black twinkled laughingly down at her from a bronze face with strong masculine features. Not to mention his body. Not even the months of inactivity in a jail cell had made his Adonis proportions suffer it seemed, though she had every intention of wasting no time in finding out for herself if what she thought was the case was, in fact, the truth.

Luis unclasped their hands in order to rub his jaw and the sting that had turned the skin there slightly red. Fancy always had been a clumsy one, he realised with less affection and more annoyance than there ought to have been in his thoughts. He was just tired, Luis told himself firmly and turned back to face his ecstatic family.

"So, Mama, no excuse now to cancel your famous Lopez-Fitzgerald Christmas lunch, huh?" Luis smiled crookedly at his mother, noting how ten years had seemed to have melted off her appearance since he saw her in his execution chamber this morning.

Pilar smiled gently, a contented glow seemed to surround her just like her happy family were physically surrounding her in reality. "Of course, Luis. We must have a large family Christmas these holidays; we have so much to be thankful for."

"Oh, Fancy! You'll just love Mama's Christmas Pudding!" Theresa leaned in excitedly.

Luis's head swung round to stare at Theresa as his sister's words registered. He had no idea why, but he hadn't even contemplated the idea that Fancy would be joining them for the family holiday.

It should have, Luis realised, he had always, always wanted to be with Sheridan wherever she was for Christmas, even if that meant not with his family. Thankfully, that had never been the case. Sheridan was always very welcome at the Lopez-Fitzgerald's house and he had always wanted her to know the warmth of being surrounded by family who loved you during the season.

It had always made him smile to see the way Sheridan was surprised every time she was presented with a gift from each member of his family. She never took that acceptance for granted and he knew that she treasured those memories. At least, he thought darkly, he had believed she did.

With resolve, he silently reminded himself that he had no idea of the person Sheridan was anymore.

Still, it didn't explain why he was so blindsided by Theresa assuming Fancy would be celebrating Christmas with them this year. But despite knowing that he shouldn't be feeling the small reluctance he was at the idea of Fancy with him for the holidays and that he should be happy, Luis couldn't stop his mouth from opening and verbalising the words that he said in the next moment before Fancy could answer his sister.

"Theresa!" The way he called the name was unique. It was said on a laugh but there was a hidden sharpness in the call that his siblings and Mama picked up on; a warning. "You shouldn't just assume things like that. I'm sure that Fancy wants to spend Christmas day with her own family; Ivy, Julian and Fox." It was disguised, but the way Theresa's eyes narrowed and Pilar's back straightened in surprise told Luis that they had got the message; back off.

"Oh, but Luis...!" The stuttering coming from Fancy beside him had Luis turning to look down at her.

The remnants of a large grin were fading from her face, to be replaced with a nervous, yet, determined expression. Suddenly, she leaned forward and grasped his forearm firmly. "Luis, thank-you for being so considerate but after the hell we've just been through I don't want to be away from you any more than I absolutely have to. You won't get rid of me that easy," She smiled teasingly, "Besides, you're my family now." She murmured lowly, her blue eyes sparkling up at him.

Panic seized him. What was wrong with him?! Luis thought incredulously, because those words hadn't felt romantic as he knew they ought to have, they felt stifling.

Paloma must have read some of the indecision on his face, an emotion Fancy clearly couldn't read at all and spoke up quickly.

"But surely, Fancy, your family will want to spend that time with you, especially after the year you've had?" She smiled faintly and Luis noticed that her demeanour, while happy, seemed strained for some reason and made a mental note to talk to her about what was bothering her.

Now, even Fancy was looking a tad unsure and Luis felt dreadful. She had faced a year of hell, what with the assault and his imprisonment and all. She simply wanted to be with him; he should be flattered and thrilled not reluctant. Making up his mind, Luis threw his arm around her and squeezed her shoulders in comfort.

"We'll be going to the tree-lighting together and midnight mass, how about you spend Christmas morning with your family and then come over here around one in the afternoon for the Christmas feast?" He smiled charmingly at her.

Fancy didn't want to leave his side, she was frightened that something would happen to him to take him away from her again, or that she would wake up to find that it was all just some fanciful dream.

No, she decided, as she watched her twisting fingers in indecision, she couldn't be away from him.

She didn't want to be and she wasn't going to let his honourable nature, the nature telling him that the right thing to do was let her spend this time with her family, force her to leave his side, either. And she knew that he didn't want her to leave anyway. He was merely doing what he thought was the right thing to do by her.

The thought made her melt inside, well that and the sinful smile he was sending her way right now.

Shaking herself out of the Luis induced haze of desire, she smiled and shook her head negatively. "My family want me to be happy Luis and I won't be happy anywhere that you're not."

Sighing internally, he merely nodded on the outside, feeling terribly conflicted. "Me too." He said, and for the first time since all this really began wondered if that was absolutely, entirely true.

He was just tired, Luis reminded himself silently.

Just tired.

...

_Hey! Please review and tell me what you thought! Luis clearly doesn't know his own mind at this point, nor his heart. _


	7. Truth in Adoration

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

_AN: The first part of this chapter is Paloma's POV. I hadn't actually thought of putting her view up yet but the reviews from both 'Guest' and shuis88 convinced me. So, both of you, thank-you for the idea! Now, you just have to tell me what you thought! :D_

...

_Paloma's POV_

She watched; keeping her silence, as Fancy's face transformed into a stubborn expression. The blonde Crane wouldn't be accepting Luis's compromise concerning Christmas day, she was sure.

Her guess was soon proved correct.

"My family want me to be happy Luis, and I won't be happy anywhere that you're not."

Suppressing her instinctive grimace at the sickly romantic words, she idly wondered how her favourite brother could find them _anything_ but as ridiculously poetic as she did.

But...to each their own, she guessed.

What she felt, was unsettled.

The absolute adoration in Fancy's small blue eyes, as she smiled up at her brother, made her uncomfortable. It wasn't that Paloma thought that some sentiment of adoration in a relationship was bad, no, that wasn't what disturbed her.

She'd seen the way Miguel looked at Kay, an almost hopeless worship and grin that bespoke of his thoughts. Thoughts that always seemed to say, 'how did I ever get so lucky?'. And when Kay looked at Miguel, when she didn't think anyone was watching her, her eyes would soften and a gentle smile would stretch across her lips. Her thoughts plain, 'I can't believe that he actually loves me.'

She might clash with her sister, Theresa, on a number of things; they certainly weren't the same type of person. But Ethan and Theresa also had that sense of wonder between them. That lasting shock when they looked at each other that said, as clear as day, that they considered themselves blessed to have the other's love.

But, the most important thing about those two couples, was that that adoration was a two way street.

Her Mama had felt that way about her Father, but it hadn't mattered in the end. Because Martin Fitzgerald may have loved Pilar, but he adored Katherine Crane.

She watched the pair in front of her carefully, caught the way Luis seemed to hold in a sigh, before finally nodding his acceptance.

"Me too." He murmured softly with a small smile.

The blonde seemed to melt into his side, perfectly content and at ease.

Scrutinising her brother closely, Paloma tried to find some of that same telling awe in him as he looked down at Fancy. Evidence of thoughts that said 'How did I ever deserve her?'.

But there weren't any. At least, none that she could see.

Letting out of heavy sigh, Paloma looked out the window to the snow covered front yard.

She was worried. Terribly worried.

Because she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Luis was fully capable of expressing and feeling that for the woman he was with.

Out of all the couples that she had been astounded by since moving to Harmony; she had _never _seen the equal to the love of that first couple that she had come in contact with.

The love, protectiveness and contentment radiating from Luis, when she had met her brother and the woman he loved down in Mexico that first time, had inspired her.

He_ adored_ Sheridan.

It was an inescapable fact. One, which any person meeting them, before the mess that had become the couple's life, wouldn't have failed to recognise.

So, she worried.

Paloma didn't know exactly what happened in that fateful trip to Rome, but Luis's rather sudden interest in Fancy Crane following the international journey, had shocked her.

Shocked her, because it appeared to be genuine.

She had been there, a silent observer to the dismissive way Fancy had treated Noah. The man that the blonde woman had claimed was the love of her life was totally disregarded, almost as soon as the female Crane had set eyes on the handsome figure she knew her brother to be.

Fancy had been single-minded and dogged about claiming what she wanted; and she wanted Luis.

Was Paloma the only one who found the way Fancy and Luis had swooped in on each other distasteful? Was she the only one who felt sympathy for Sheridan? The only one that gave even a thought to how hard it must have been for the woman that their relationship seemed to spring to life in the dark aftermath of Marty's death and her miscarriage?

Was she the only one who couldn't seem to understand or even see this 'true love' between the two?

Looking into the dark eyes of her favourite brother, eyes that should have shown nothing but contentment, she wondered.

Was she the only one thinking that maybe...Luis had made a mistake?

...

"Good Morning, sleepyhead! We didn't know if you were ever going to join us."

Luis looked through sleepy eyes to find his mother, Sam Bennet and Paloma smiling at him.

"What time is it?" He muttered groggily, as he stumbled towards the fridge, he was famished!

Sam laughed loudly, "Its 6pm, Luis. Pilar said you slept the whole day away."

Luis looked up from the left-over lasagne he was taking the tin foil off of, in shock. "You're kidding!" A quick glance out the window and the dark night sky was enough of an answer. "Wow, I don't think I've ever slept that long in my life!"

Sitting down at the small, plastic covered dining table with the large rectangular dish in one hand and a quickly found fork in the other, he proceeded to skewer a large square section and put it straight into his mouth.

"Luis!" His mother exclaimed at the dreadful table manners, already rushing to the cupboard, "couldn't you have at least got yourself a plate first?" His fork was promptly snatched out of his mouth by his youngest sister, with a huff of disgust about poor table manners, and the large dish of lasagne confiscated from in front of him by Pilar.

"Mama! That's really not necessary," Luis chuckled, as he watched the Mexican woman serve out a large section of the pasta onto the fetched plate and place it in front of him. Sam was laughing by now, "I'll have you know, that I fully intend to finish every last morsel of food in that dish and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"He looks serious, Pilar." Sam and he exchanged a conspirator's wink. "You should know by now, how much a man can eat when denied food for any length of time."

"It's no excuse for poor table manners, Sam." Pilar stated firmly, but there was a smile in the corner of her mouth she couldn't quite manage to suppress.

"All he did was sleep!" Paloma exclaimed, though she too was smiling in humour. "And I know this for a fact, as he sent Fancy home telling her how exhausted he was."

"I've no doubt that that was true," Sam grinned broadly. "Between the time he spent asleep, and the fact that he turned away the company of the beauteous Fancy Crane, I think Luis's honesty can be assured."

Luis couldn't help it; the disgusted expression that bloomed across his little sister's face when the chief of police's words registered, had him snorting into the large glass of water he was drinking.

"Sam!" Pilar scolded.

"Sorry, Pilar." Sam apologised, but he didn't look the least bit contrite. "Anyway, I am just one in a long line of visitors today, I hear, but the one lucky enough to be here when the man finally awakens. Don't tell Fancy, she's liable to murder me."

"What are you babbling about, Sam?" Luis questioned, finally looking up from his already half-eaten plate of food.

"Practically the whole town has made an appearance at least once today, Luis, to wish you well and express their happiness that you are alright." Pilar stated with a proud smile. Her son was very well known and respected in Harmony and the surrounding areas.

Luis merely raised his brows in acknowledgment, privately thanking God that his Mama had obviously refused to wake him for the procession of well-wishers.

He was grateful to everyone who wanted to tell him, in person, how glad they were with how everything had turned out for him. Even so, he couldn't help feeling thankful that he had slept through it all, it sounded like the amount of meeting and greetings would have been a draining exercise.

A thought suddenly occurred to him, "Has Fancy made it over today?" He asked casually.

Luis had no idea what had come over him last night and was feeling somewhat guilty at his thoughts. But now that he had had a restful sleep he was feeling much more settled, less shocked and eager to be in her company.

Well, maybe eager was the wrong word; he would be pleased and happy if she walked through the front door right now, but he wasn't desperate enough to leave the house right this second to go and find her.

Paloma raised an eyebrow and sent him a direct stare, "Has Fancy made it over? The girl _woke_ both Mama and I at six this morning with hot coffee and donuts for _you_."

Alright, Luis acknowledged that that was a little early, but it was nice that she had brought food over and, with that thought in the forefront in his mind; he sent his sister back a challenging stare of his own.

"It was very sweet of her, really." Pilar smiled, "She stayed here until about nine, wanting to be here when you woke up," His Mother explained at the sight of Luis's questioning frown. "She came by again at eleven thirty and then at one in the afternoon. When Fancy found that you still hadn't woken by the afternoon, despite knowing what an early riser you are, she asked that you just call her when you do wake up."

Luis nodded, not noticing Paloma's grimace of distaste as their Mama spoke and accepted his mobile phone from his sister with a grateful smile.

Holding the receiver to his ear with his shoulder, waving goodbye to Sam with his left hand and still shovelling food into his mouth with his right, Luis was startled when a breathless 'hello' answered before the first ring could even finish.

"Fancy, hi." Swallowing, he put aside his food for a moment and leaned back in his chair.

"Luis," Fancy cried happily, "I was beginning to think that you were part bear and had entered hibernation for the Winter." She laughed.

Luis grinned, appreciating the humour.

"How are you feeling?" Fancy asked.

"Good." He nodded, "It feels real now that I've woken up outside that cell, you know?"

"Yeah," she said, "I can imagine. Are you looking forward to the tree-lighting, tonight?"

"That's tonight! My God, I had completely forgotten."

"You still want to go right? I think you should, it would be really good for you to get out and about, you know?" He voice was concerned now.

Luis hurried to reassure her, "No, Fancy, I do. I want to go. I was just surprised when you said that it was tonight but, of course, it's the twenty third of December, I don't even know how I could have forgotten something like that."

"Oh, good," Luis heard her breathe heavily through the receiver in relief, "I cannot tell you how excited I am about it this year. Everything has just fallen into place. You're here, we're together, happy, in love and I've been asked to light the tree by everyone."

The reminder that it was Fancy who was going to be lighting the tree this year, not Sheridan, was like a splash of ice water down on top of him.

And he suddenly realised, that for the thirty seconds since Fancy reminded him of the event tonight, he had been looking forward to seeing, if not necessarily speaking to Sheridan.

With the iron will he had always possessed in spades, Luis forced his unwanted disappointment, anger and realisation to the back of his mind and answered Fancy without missing a beat in the conversation. "Did you want me to pick you up or shall we just meet there?"

"As much as I hate the thought of not racing over to you right now Luis, I actually have to be there a little early, in just half an hour, in fact. You would just be waiting around with nothing to do until eight, when everyone starts to arrive. So, I'll just meet you there, okay?"

There was disappointment in Fancy's voice that was plain to hear. Nevertheless, Luis couldn't help but be thankful that he now had an hour and a half before he had to leave.

"Sounds good, that way I can finish emptying out Mama's fridge, shower and get dressed without rushing." He grinned cheekily at the mock glare Pilar sent his way.

Fancy's bell like laughter floated through the phone, making him smile, "hungry, huh?"

"You have no idea. Prison cooks just aren't interested in maintaining any type of standard where food quality is concerned."

The dead silence suddenly echoing down the phone line, and the way the kitchens two other occupants abruptly froze was enough to make Luis wince.

It clearly wasn't yet time to joke about it.

"Luis...please, don't say, I'm so sorry, so sorr..." Fancy's trembling voice through the phone had him scrambling to repair the damage his ill timed words had caused.

"Fancy, no, no. None of what happened was your fault, none of it. I'm sorry, it was just a joke, and one I now realise was in very bad taste." As Luis spoke the words, he sent his two family members apologetic looks, letting them know that his words were not for her alone.

This was a new experience for him. Seeing the emotional damage his sentence had caused in other people. His execution had been the focus of everybody's dread for so long, that only now, when his safety wasn't a question anymore, were people finally letting go of that adrenaline. That powerful drug that had kept them all going for so many months was, at last, beginning to recede.

Hearing Fancy get herself back under control and watching his Mother and sister pull themselves back together; Luis felt his anger at Sheridan flare again.

Her jealousy had caused him to doubt Fancy's claim that the attacker was in her room that night, leading to her being attacked for a second time and him being framed for it.

Mentally, he grasped that anger and allowed it pass through him slowly. Letting it remind him of all the things Sheridan had done since he came back from Rome, things that he never would have thought her capable of in a million years.

At the same time, memories of Fancy's innocence, honesty and loyalty to him steeled his nerves and reminded him that he was lucky, that he was with the right woman and that if he had any feelings lingering for Sheridan they would fade and were merely echoes of the past.

Fancy was his future.

With that thought at the forefront of his mind, Luis gripped the phone tightly. "Fancy, I love you. Please, forgive me; I didn't mean to remind you of everything that has happened. It's all in the past, now. Our past. But our future is all that concerns me now and it will be bright, Fancy, and it starts with tonight."

Pilar watched her son closely as he spoke those words, his voice genuine and full of emotion. His face was blank, as if he was thinking of something unpleasant rather than that bright future he spoke of.

The two emotions didn't match each other.

She just didn't know which one was the true Luis, not yet.

As she turned away from her son and looked out the window, a thought occurred to her. Did_ Luis_ know which one was the way he _truly_ felt?

"When I get to the tree lighting tonight, I will be looking for the most beautiful woman in Harmony because that is the woman I am in love with."

_Yes_, Pilar thought with sorrow, clenching her hands tightly around the dish towel, _but is that woman Fancy, Luis? _

...

_So? What did you think? Please, review and tell me! _


	8. She Knew the Steps to This Dance

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

_Shuis88; Look! A Sheridan POV (Gasp!) and nice idea on the mysterious meet between Sheridan and Luis at the tree light, 'Guest', I'm certainly thinking about it! ;D Buffylover, no, you're not imagining things. I rearranged the first couple of chapters; I thought that it flowed better this way. _

_..._

Sheridan shut the door to her cottage quickly. She felt like a criminal whenever she walked outside, the way people now looked at her, the way they pointed and whispered amongst themselves.

She was in hell.

She had left the cottage to do her Christmas shopping; with Luis's execution she hadn't done any yet.

She had braved the staring and hostile glares on the side walk, pushing down the hurt at Eve's lack of acknowledgment outside the bookshop. It was the moment she came across the prettiest blue cashmere jumper that Pilar would look stunning in, that she realised.

She had no one to shop for.

None of her friends and adopted family ever wanted to speak to her again. How could she buy them gifts?

They would either think that she was making a pathetic attempt to bribe them, or the reminder of her and the dark memories she now symbolised, would ruin their Christmas.

What was she still doing here? Marty was gone, everyone in Harmony hated her and she simply wasn't capable of watching Luis and Fancy make their lives together.

Should she do it? Sheridan looked at her white leather gloves that covered her hands, should she just go?

Eventually, she found a small corner of the Post Office, behind the shelves of stationary and picked up little teddy bears, all in fantastic colours, for the children.

Within unmarked, plain white envelopes she slipped a fine, gold chain and cross, for all the women she couldn't bare not giving something to for Christmas. Even if they didn't want anything from her, they wouldn't know, she didn't sign anything.

She knew that the Lopez-Fitzgerald's, especially, would want to know who to thank for the expensive necklaces, so Sheridan made sure to use the post box down the road and not leave the gifts at the counter. They would never accept them if they knew they were from her.

On her way back to the car, she called information for the number of a florist in the next town. Ordering Christmas wreaths for each of the men in her life, Sheridan left only one message, to be delivered with Julian's, asking him not to mention to Eve who the wreathes were from, and a Merry Christmas.

Trapped at a set of traffic lights, out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the flurry of activity in the town's square. Sheridan didn't even have to turn her head to know what it was. It was the twenty third today. The tree lighting ceremony was tonight.

Sheridan ignored the screaming voice in her head telling her not to look, that it would only hurt her, that she couldn't take any more pain at the moment. She couldn't help it, even knowing that it would hurt, she turned her neck, and stared.

There, on the wooden platform, directing the organising was Fancy Crane. She looking stunning, Sheridan thought, in her crimson long coat and white jeans. It was a small thing, but she couldn't help but find ironic humour in her own, less than Christmassy long green t-shirt, hay coloured linen pants and black, cropped, leather jacket.

People scurried to do as Fancy indicated, wanting to please. Families were ice skating a ways away, Father's bringing hot chocolate to small children, wife's and girlfriend's passing the man they loved, a traditional cup of mulled wine.

It was picturesque.

Sheridan suddenly realised that she had never once helped set up the tree lighting like Fancy was doing right now. She'd offered, but they had always turned her down. Her niece deserved this. It was clear to her now, she had only been asked to do it solely out of tradition.

It hadn't occurred to her how snobbish people must she her as. Not helping out and only turning up to take the spotlight away from those who set everything up. The upsetting insight mortified her and she pressed her hand against her eyes to stave off the tears building there.

It hurt; it hurt so much to look at the past through open eyes. To see the reality that she had remained ignorant of.

The blast of a horn startled her and she looked up to see the light had turned green. Breathing out slowly, she waved at the car behind her in apology and, looking once more at the beautiful tree, taking in the idyllic setting, she drove on.

She wondered if Luis was with Fancy? She imagined so. He never would have let Sheridan out of his sight if this same situation had happened to them in the past. Their past.

Luis was a passionate man; it was one of the things that hopelessly attracted her to him from the first.

He used to just hold her.

Sheridan had worried that she might be crowding him, but that wasn't the way Luis was. He surrounded himself with his loved ones, especially in times of crisis.

No, Sheridan imagined that Luis hadn't let Fancy get more than two metres away from him ever since he'd been released.

And then she wondered why she continued to torture herself with these thoughts?

It hurt. It was a new kind of pain, one she had never experienced before Fancy and Luis came back from Rome.

She knew the steps to their dance, knew more than any other person what each little token of affection meant in Luis's eyes.

She would know that when he started fiddling with Fancy's fingers constantly, he was fascinated by her. She would know that look he got when he made love the previous night.

It was an agony few could match.

She hadn't sent him a Christmas gift. Some fear lived inside her that said that he would know it was from her. That he would storm over to her cottage, throw the wreath at her feet and demand why she wouldn't just leave him alone. Call her a stalker, incapable of letting go of the past.

Neither had she had sent Fancy a necklace. Her guilt wouldn't let her. Her niece would hate her even more if she dared to mail a gift.

Standing in her living room, the silence was deafening. Everything was in exactly the same place she'd left it. Her bed rumpled, un-made for days.

She hadn't been sleeping. She was exhausted, but no matter how many hours, night after night, she couldn't drift off into that darkness she craved.

A reprieve from the pain.

Just for a while.

Sighing quietly, Sheridan smiled a small smile when she noticed that someone had added logs to the pile of wood beside the fire place. Walking over to the neatly stacked tower, she picked off a small white sheet, opening the message that had been left behind.

_Mistress Sheridan,_

_Please, remember to keep your wood stock full. You know how you tend to forget. _

_George._

Without a word she closed the simple note and placed it in her pocket. George was the butler of Crane Mansion; she had known him since she was a little girl. He'd been making a habit of coming down to her cottage once or twice a week lately, just to see how she was.

He was a sweet old man.

And her closest friend, now.

No Christmas cards were overflowing her mantle piece like they had in the past.

She hadn't received any well wishers this year.

She'd gotten a couple of business Christmas cards from suppliers and customers of Crane Industries, but they didn't mean anything. She used them as kindling, as she had since she had starting receiving the ingratiating cards when she was thirteen.

Sheridan spun in a slow circle, taking in the empty feeling of the room. Dropping her jacket onto the couch she moved to her bedroom, hoping sleep might come to her this time.

Why was she still here?

The thought beat down on her. The same one that she turned over and over in her mind last night, when she ought to have been asleep.

Maybe she should leave.

Really leave.

When she had thought Luis had died, the comfort his family gave her and the knowledge that Marty had been here kept her in Harmony.

The only thing holding her here anymore was Marty. The little amount of memories she had of her sweet little boy, were all here. If she left...she would be leaving him behind too.

But even the memory of her son wasn't enough anymore.

She dreaded meeting people on the streets whenever she worked up the courage to go outside. Seeing the people she thought of as family look at her with hate and suspicion. Watching as Luis forgot her in his blissful happiness with Fancy.

Harmony had become a nightmare.

Her life, the memories this town harboured now drowned the few good, happy times she could barely remember with all too vivid painful ones.

Even memories of Marty were lost in the ocean of hurt.

Sheridan just wanted to disappear.

To escape and live, if not a happy life...at least, a peaceful one.

...

_I really did think that the show isolated Sheridan so much by the end. She had no-one. She didn't just loose Luis; she lost her life; her friends, her adopted family. She was replaced with an ease that astounded me! When Theresa did something wrong her family would stick by her and the same went for Kay. But the only family Sheridan really has is Julian and he's never been there for her. _


	9. Soft Murmurs

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

'_QuetaLyn or (Guest)', lol, yeah I am in total agreement. I honestly am just working my frustrations out on the characters. And helios101, I too find that section pretty evil grin inspiring, especially with Luis getting all wound up earlier because he was feeling intolerant of Fancy's small faults. Priceless. Oh, and shuis88, the episode playing in your mind thing? Yeah, totally doing that too. _

...

Fancy looked at the final product of her many hours of supervising work and felt satisfied. This year's tree lighting would be the most impressive yet. She had made sure of that.

"Well done, Miss Crane. It all looks wonderful."

Fancy smiled with pleasure but was quick to add, "Thank-you Patricia. I couldn't have managed it without all of the volunteers. Please pass that on to everybody for me."

The middle aged, grey haired school teacher smiled tightly.

Fancy had no idea how very society she had sounded just then. Thanking 'the help'.

She sighed with happy triumph up at the large Christmas tree in front of her. The tree-lighting would be pretty special this year.

Fancy had taken it upon herself to update the, frankly outdated, little town traditions, bringing in a live band, fashionable espresso bar, brand new fairy lights and lanterns and even a sushi kiosk. Yes, the elegant food choice of sushi was a little more expensive, especially in comparison to the pittance normally charged by the food stalls every year. However, she'd brought them in specially, and the equipment they needed to keep the food fresh wasn't cheap to transport either.

But Fancy had wanted the event to be different this year, special, remembered. Seeing the confused, shocked and apprehensive looks on the faces of arriving people, she could hardy hold in her grin. It was working!

Noticing that the sky was almost completely dark, the last of the suns rays peeping over the town's shops, Fancy wondered again where Luis could be. He was running almost twenty minutes late and she was starting to worry. It wasn't like him.

"Darling!" Fancy turned to see the cool, well groomed figure of her mother approaching her with open arms. "Everything looks lovely." Kissing both cheeks, Ivy drew back and gave a subtle nod of approval for her daughter's chic outfit.

"Thank-you, Mother." Fancy smiled widely.

"Where's Luis?"

"Oh, he only woke up two hours ago so I suggested that he just meet me here." She thought it best not to mention his running late. Her Mother was terribly over-protective of her nowadays.

An imperious eyebrow arched delicately on Ivy's ivory features.

"What?" Fancy exhaled tiredly.

Her mother paused for a moment, as if debating whether to risk annoying her daughter by speaking her mind, "Nothing, Fancy. I was merely a little surprised that Luis didn't run right over here when he woke up."

Not appreciating the innuendo's Fancy fixed Ivy with a serious stare. "Mother, please don't do this. Don't plant suspicions in my mind..."

"It never hurts to be prepared!" Ivy interjected. "And it wasn't suspicions so much as, a reminder not to grow too comfortable and careless."

"Luis and I are happy together."

"Of course you are." Her mother frowned, grabbing her hand. "I never suggested that you weren't, Fancy. I just worry that Sheridan might try something again..."

"Like what?" Her daughter interrupted sharply, her previously defensive posture now attentive.

"Oh, I don't know...turn up at Pilar's house today, try to see Luis when you were otherwise occupied." She waved a hand in the air to indicate that she was merely guessing.

"Well, unless she showed up after I spoke to Luis, Sheridan hasn't tried anything, thankfully." She murmured the last part softly.

Ivy picked up on the effect her words were having on her daughter and raced to clarify.

"My darling, you have nothing to worry about where Luis is concerned. If there is only one thing that came from your...well, all I'm saying is that no person in Harmony will ever again believe a word Sheridan says. I'm sure that if she did attempt something today while you were here, not just Luis would have turned her away but Pilar also." She said strongly.

Fancy smiled but didn't say anything. She hated that her Aunt Sheridan overshadowed her relationship with Luis but her Mother was right. Sheridan could try all she wanted, not one would believe her motives were anything but self-serving and would be on their guard because of that.

Two, strong, warm arms were suddenly wrapping around her figure, making her jump in alarm, before the clean, spicy scent drifting through the frosty air had her melting back into the tall body at her back; a helpless grin spreading widely across her face.

"Hey, you." Warm breath ghosted past her ear, sending a shiver up her spine. If the soft chuckle she heard was any indication, the man had felt her embarrassing reaction.

Trying to stop the blush from heating her cheeks through sheer force of will, she managed to limit the physical manifestation to a small redness only.

Only one person she knew possessed a voice like the person holding her. A dark, silky, almost sensuous quality existed in that voice and god, was it sexy. Fancy turned in the loose cage the arms made around her, tilting her neck up to the sparkling black eyes smiling lazily at her.

"Hey back." Fancy whispered as she rose to her toes to press her lips softly against his.

...

"Mm, I could get used to such a pleasurable greeting." Luis flirted smoothly.

He nodded once in silent greeting to Ivy, who was still standing beside her daughter, not embarrassed or cowed in the least by her blue eyed watchful stare. Her thoughts were blatantly clear, 'my, Luis, you are forward, aren't you?...Where have you been?'

Luis couldn't help the instinctive way one side of his mouth curled up into a small smirk of humour. Unable to back down from even this small challenge, his own eyes answered her dare for him, 'you don't see_ Fancy_ complaining, do you?'

Luis was aware that Ivy Winthrop was a confident, hard individual. She was smart and she could hold her own against most, but Luis hadn't met many people in his life capable of standing up to him, not really.

He had always been the leader; the one looked to, the one with the answers. Not just in his family but, inevitably, in whatever situation he found himself in. He'd learned to accept his nature, that inability to allow any curtailing of his freedom.

Sam had always had his respect. No small amount due to the fact that Luis had realised that Sam, although he certainly asked his advice on any number of things, didn't simply do what Luis told him to do. It might sound cruel or even condescending, to a certain extent, but Hank had never commanded Luis's respect like his brother did. Because Luis had always had trouble respecting those that he had no difficulty over-ruling.

As strange as it may sound, Luis had _always_ respected Alistair. He might hate him, but he respected that the man would do what he wanted, and he respected what he was capable of.

As Ivy finally lowered her eyes in acknowledgement, Luis effectively dismissed her and returned his attention to the woman looking up at him adoringly. Without warning, defiant blue eyes flashed across his mind's eye.

_She_ had always stood up to him, always questioned him and never blindly followed. It had frustrated the life out of him on more than a number of occasions. The fact that even in life-threatening situations, he would have to explain at least some of his reasons before she would comply with his orders.

Nothing in his outward appearance hinted at his thoughts. "Sorry I'm late, I lost track of time." Luis murmured to Fancy.

_She_ would never bow to him. Never. That fact might have aggravated him at times, but Luis had never wished it away. If nothing else, the trait had always kept him on his toes.

Fancy frowned innocently before looking down at her watch, "I didn't even notice. I was talking to Mother." Luis suppressed his smile when he saw the falseness in her eyes and her obvious relief to see him, but decided not to call her on the little white lie.

When the blonde woman turned her head, obviously looking for Ivy's physical presence, Luis gestured silently with his chin to the disappearing form of the 'ice-queen' as she joined the crowd.

Fancy's expression turned wry, "I guess Mother wanted us to have some time alone." Then, she was facing him again. "What kept you?" She asked.

Luis shifted so that his right arm curled around her waist and his other dropped to hang comfortably at his side. "Miguel. Apparently, Kay kicked him out of the house when she found out that he had yet to visit his big brother today."

"Oh." Fancy grinned.

"Excuse me, Miss Crane?" They both turned towards the hesitant speaker holding a clip board hard against her chest.

"Yes, Patricia?" Fancy asked.

Luis waited for her to introduce him and apparently the middle-aged lady was as well because she waited a moment, shifting her eyes to his unsurely, before she realised that it wasn't going to happen and just started speaking.

"The live band that you organised, Miss Crane, they've set up in the space traditionally used by the apple cider stall. They refuse to move because they already have all their sound systems set up."

"Well, can't the cider booth just use a different space this year?" Fancy asked, rolling her eyes at the 'ridiculous' problem.

Luis caught the flare of anger in the woman's eyes and decided to jump in before Fancy hanged herself with the locals.

"I'm sorry, Patricia, is it?" Luis shot the woman a charming grin, offering his hand. "I'm Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald." A tentative shake and reciprocal introduction followed. "Now, you'll have to excuse me for being a bit out of the loop," the suddenly downcast eyes told him that Patricia was aware of his recent problems with the law. "But, why are you approaching Fancy with this? Aren't the spaces usually allocated in July by the school?"

He noted the small pursing of Patricia's lips for what it was; irritation. "Yes, you are correct. The tree lighting ceremony is normally_ always_ run by the local high school and a panel of students elected by their peers. However, this year..." She trailed off, looking at Fancy uncertainly. "Miss Crane volunteered to oversee the preparations. She had a lot of innovative ideas; we've had to rearrange the budget quite a bit, many of the more...traditional stalls weren't feasible as a result."

Luis understood only too well what Patricia was trying to say. Even with the delicate way she was trying to avoid stepping on any powerful toes.

His happy mood settled quickly and he had to work to keep the grin he was sporting looking genuine.

Fancy had unknowingly, or maybe even wishing to remain conveniently oblivious, approached the school board and requested she be in charge of the event this year.

Luis had seen this happen so many times in the past.

The high school didn't feel they could say no to a Crane and what had traditionally been the proud work of adolescent youths, pulling together and feeling as if they had really contributed to their community, became a Crane society event. The small town charm of local traditions were discarded and replaced as too gauche for society.

Luis hadn't realised...he had just assumed that she'd volunteered to help move some tables and set up lights a few hours before the tree-lighting.

"I had no idea you were so...involved, Fancy." His girlfriend must have caught something in his tone as she shot him a searching look. He ignored her. "Patricia, I'm sure you know the chief of police, Sam Bennett, if you go and explain the issue about our lack of space he'd be more than happy to close off the street with a few cop cars. Practically the whole town comes to this event anyway, so it won't cause any traffic problems. The cider stand will have more than enough room to set up on the street. In fact," He grinned at the woman, winking conspiratorially, finding humour in the way the tops of her ears turned pink at his attention. "They just might be tonight's hit; prime location to catch cold, thirsty townsfolk."

Patricia laughed delightedly. Nodding her understanding and her thanks, she left swiftly to go find Sam.

The second the woman was out of ear shot Fancy stepped in front of him, her face frowning. "You're upset with me." She stated.

Luis looked into those small, blue eyes and saw real bewilderment. Fancy was an intelligent woman, and yet, she hadn't a clue what was bothering him. Even having been privy to that conversation, Luis could see no understanding in her. No embarrassment for having effectively dismissed a stall that had been a local favourite since the first tree lighting.

"Fancy..." He began, only to change his mind. He didn't want to get into it right now.

Explaining to Fancy how she had unwittingly insulted the locals with her presumptuous disregard of their annual traditions would be exhausting. His girlfriend hated not being 'the darling' of Harmony; she would make him go over every little step, conversation and exchange with a fine tooth comb.

She wouldn't accept her social slip with grace wanting nothing but to apologise. No, Fancy would go on the defensive. Feel as if she couldn't look weak, that if she was seen regretting the way she'd acted the towns' people would know that her insulting actions had been motivated by high class naivety.

He simply didn't have the energy, or, the inclination.

"Nothing." He sighed.

She looked as if she would pursue the topic for a moment. Searching his eyes in a fruitless attempt to read what he was thinking. But she didn't. The pause between them was beginning to become somewhat awkward when, unexpectedly, Fancy smiled faintly and silently took his hand in hers.

"Come on, let's go see everyone." She pulled him gently into the growing crowd.

Yet, even as he was greeted warmly by a group of his family and friends, even as he bent down to pick up his niece, Maria, and give her a bear hug, even as she giggled sweetly, Luis still heard the small whisper from the back of his mind.

The soft voice that said Sheridan would never put her pride before other people's feelings as Fancy did. The even softer one that questioned why he'd felt the need to scan the crowd for her presence before approaching his girlfriend. The low murmur that asked; why didn't he feel content?

...


	10. He Just Needed To Check

_Disclaimer: I do not own Passions._

"Merry Christmas!"

Clapping and cheers dominated the square as the large Christmas tree's lights suddenly flicked on.

Fancy grinned brightly at Luis from the small wooden stage and he gave a small, forced smile in acknowledgment from his place at the back of the crowd.

His easy merriment and happy air had been thoroughly smothered by the events of tonight. Fancy had been at his side constantly, the grip on his hand tight. Everybody had wanted to speak with him, wish him well and shake his hand.

That wasn't what had put him in such a dark mood.

No. It was the things he had overheard as he moved through the crowd. The things people said to him.

He hadn't known...hadn't realised...

_...(Flashback to earlier in the night)..._

"...Of course we'll come, won't we Luis?"

The call of his name startled him, and his gaze, which had been floating over the crowd of people swung back to see Fancy staring at him expectantly.

"Sorry?"

His girlfriend's blue eyes looked at him in growing confusion and a small amount of frustration. He couldn't blame her; he hadn't exactly been perfectly attentive gentleman tonight, quite the opposite actually.

"Revelling in you regained freedom, Luis?" Ethan grinned.

"Like you wouldn't believe!" He laughed. Mentally thanking his soon to be brother-in-law for the well timed distraction. Fancy wouldn't be very impressed if she knew what had him so distracted.

"Theresa and Ethan were asking if we wanted to go away with them after Christmas? You know, a couples weekend?" Fancy smiled excitedly at his sister and Luis knew that his girlfriend wanted to go.

"You don't have to man. I can understand if you just want to relax at home for a while." Ethan had apparently caught his hesitance and was giving him a graceful out that wouldn't upset Fancy.

Without permission, his eyes once again began straying back towards the crowd. He managed to catch himself before his gaze focused and forcibly pulled his eyes away from their hunt.

This was ridiculous. You would think his eyes were independent from his body with the way they were acting. He had lost count of the number of times he had found himself searching for that unique shade of blonde.

Looking down on Fancy's hopeful face Luis felt horribly guilty for his instinctive actions. She didn't deserve this from him.

"It sounds great." The sound of female screams of delight made him smile and eased his guilt somewhat

"_We really should have known...the way she played the two brothers against each other? Twisting them for her sick amusement..."_

Luis swung his head round, all four of them quietening as the small piece of the two women's conversation drifted over to them.

"Who are they talking about?"Luis asked quietly. His eyes, focused on the receding gossipers, didn't see the way Ethan and Theresa exchanged apprehensive looks.

"Aunt Sheridan, of course, can you think of any other who fits the description we just heard?" Fancy too was watching the departing pair, her voice icy as she answered his question.

"What?" Luis snapped harshly, startling both Theresa and Fancy with his dark stare, but Ethan wasn't surprised. He only worried what Luis might do when he realised the extent of the awful rumours circulating around Harmony about Sheridan.

Ethan could understand Luis's position better than anyone, he would hazard. Theresa chose to turn a blind eye to the possibility of Luis still having feelings for Sheridan. But Ethan knew first hand that it wasn't as simple as wishing those feelings away for them to disappear. Truthfully, Ethan found himself a little shocked by Theresa's outlook on this whole situation considering she had spent years proving to him and everyone else the power and longevity of such emotions. No matter what that person did.

"Why are you looking at me like that?!" Fancy asked and Luis consciously softened his expression.

"Sorry, but why do you think it was Sheridan they were talking about?"

She shrugged, "Those types of comments are hardly out of the ordinary anymore."

"Sheridan has become the most popular source of Harmony's gossip." Theresa expanded.

A dark scowl took up residence on Luis's brow and he turned in the direction the two women had disappeared.

"Is it true?" Fancy's soft voice broke through his thoughts and he raised a brow, telling her to clarify her question. "Is it true that Sheridan strung both you and your brother along for months? A year?"

"I don't want to talk about that Fancy." Luis's voice wasn't harsh but it was final.

"Okay." She whispered softly but Luis couldn't feel guilty.

What happened between Sheridan, Antonio and him was between the three of them only. Only they knew what it was like to be in that impossible situation. Only them.

And even if Sheridan had changed, he thought painfully, as everything indicated, he mentally shook himself, angry that the thoughts still had the ability to hurt him. Sheridan hadn't strung him and Antonio along. He knew that for certain.

It was an impossible situation. The most terrifying, confusing, jealous situation he had ever been in.

But it was nobody's fault.

And no matter how he or even Fancy felt about Sheridan, he would let anyone imply that it was Sheridan's.

"Fancy?"

Eve Russel rushed towards them with a wide smile and a red beanie. "Honey, there you are! Your Mother, Pilar and I have been searching everywhere for you." She smiled indulgently when she caught sight of his and Fancy's linked hands.

"Luis, how are you?" She asked seriously and Luis could see the terrible guilt in her eyes and understood.

"It's alright, Eve, you couldn't possibly have known about Vincent." He said softly.

She drew up at the unexpected comment but he could see that she was grateful for his words.

"Thank-you, Luis." She nodded. "And the same goes for you." Eve added.

Luis frowned in confusion.

"Sheridan's true character was a surprise to us all. You can't blame yourself for not knowing what she was capable of."

His frown deepened. "I don't."

Eve looked startled for a moment before a look of understanding overcame her, "Of course. The blame rests solely on Sheridan's shoulders, I did not mean for a moment to imply otherwise. One of the reasons we thought it best she not be involved with the tree lighting this year, actually."

It was like everything else abruptly fell away with those words.

"Wait!" Luis took his hand out of Fancy's, "what do you mean, 'you thought it best'? I thought that Sheridan had asked not to be a part of the ceremony this year, what happened?"

Eve looked slightly uncomfortable, "Sheridan did ask not to be involved, Luis, I'm merely saying that we agreed with her." She said stiffly before turning to Fancy, putting an end to any further conversation.

"Fancy you're needed up on stage now, we're already running a little late."

Luis saw Fancy tear her speculative blue eyes away from the side of his face; she had turned earlier to observe him during his discussion with Eve.

"Oh, alright. Let's go then. Luis, I'll meet you afterwards?"

Mind still spinning with growing suspicions, Luis could only manage a small smile of acknowledgement.

As soon as Fancy left with Eve he turned to the silent Theresa and Ethan, "Look, I'm going to go, I just need some air, okay?"

Theresa frowned. "Fine, but Luis..."

"See you later." Cutting Theresa off, he already knew she was going to reprimand him for bringing Sheridan up in front of Fancy and his treatment of her, and at this moment he didn't really care.

"_...when no one would waitress her table she went up to the counter. She wasn't half way through saying 'a black coffee', before Vera flat out told her to leave. She said that she wouldn't have people such as Sheridan Crane in her shop. You should have seen the woman's face...! I thought she was going to keel over!" _

Luis swung around as soon as a name was put to the story he was overhearing. What the hell?!

Did he just hear?!

But the small group was gone, disappearing into the crowd now pushing to get closer to the stage.

"Everybody!" Looking up, he saw Fancy had a microphone, and since when had that happened? "Thank-you so much for coming tonight and celebrating Christmas with all of us..."

She went on, but Luis wasn't listening. Standing at the back of the crowd, under a conifer tree, he was thinking. When Fancy had commented earlier, about Sheridan hardly being a rare topic of conversation nowadays, he had just assumed that that was within their circle. Among the people that were involved, that knew what happened.

_...(End Flashback)..._

Tonight had opened his eyes.

What the hell gave any of these people the right to pass judgement on Sheridan? They don't know what happened, had no idea what went down. Who were they to speak with such assuming callousness and spread such hateful rumours?

Even so, despite his growing unease and anger, he was confused. Terribly confused. This was unprecedented. Why was seemingly the whole of Harmony acting so caustic, so singularly intolerant of Sheridan Crane?

She knew these people. They knew her.

He clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles white, desperately trying to withhold the urge to walk up to this 'Vera' and tell her to cut it the hell out! This wasn't her business! Sheridan had done nothing, absolutely nothing to her, so why should she taken objection to her?

This was unbelievable.

Luis was standing in a crowd, attending a joyous occasion, and he had never felt more alone, more ashamed of the people he called his neighbours.

The things he was hearing were being motivated by some of the most ugly of human emotions. Greed, small-mindedness, envy, prejudice, stubbornness, jealousy, intolerance, pride, bigotry...

And standing in the crowd, looking up at Fancy's smiling face as she stood in the spot Sheridan had always occupied in the past, Luis realised that he was also feeling...disappointment.

He had wanted to see Sheridan tonight.

No matter how deep the urge, it had been real and his night felt like a waste when he finally realised that she wasn't going to show.

He couldn't blame her. If Harmony was treating him like this...well, actually he'd no doubt start a few fist fights; he never was one to take things lying down. Still, he was disappointed.

And no matter how shocked he was to find out at least some of what had been going on, Luis still hated himself for feeling that way. For only being able to give a small smile in answer to Fancy's beam from the stage.

"Mijo?"

Luis didn't turn at his Mother's hesitant call.

"Why is Fancy doing the tree-lighting, Mama?" He asked softly, back facing her, staring at his happy girlfriend as she hugged Ivy in front of the tree.

"What do you mean?" She fell over her words at the beginning, clearly not expecting the question, but righted herself quickly.

"I mean, what really happened? Why is Sheridan not doing it this year? Why do I keep hearing the most awful things said about her by people I've never even met?!"

Finally turning around he fixed his Mother with a heated look.

She seemed to deflate right there in front of him. Walking slowly to his side, in the relative privacy that the back of the crowd afforded them, she took his hand in hers.

"The truth, Mama." He demanded.

She nodded. "She wasn't told she couldn't do it, not in those words. But Ivy, Eve...me, we _all _made her feel guilty." She took a deep shuddering breath. "We were awful; in hindsight I can admit that. But at the time, Luis, at the time you were sitting in a cell waiting to be executed and it was _her_ fault. At the time...I didn't care about Sheridan. By the time everyone was finished, Sheridan felt so bad, so unwanted and hated that she finally just said the thing we'd all been pushing her to say. That she wouldn't be doing the ceremony."

Luis stared at his Mother, speechless, but that didn't last long. "Mama, how could you...you know how much this tradition means to Sheridan! It's her only connection..."

"What?! Her only connection to what?! A mother that is actually alive? A mother that stole my husband! Your Father!"

Luis sighed; he knew how much it still hurt his Mother to know that Katherine Crane was more important to Martin than her or any of his children. But, still, it wasn't right.

Before he could say anything Pilar continued, her words rushed, a tone that told him that his Mother was trying to justify what she did to herself as much as she was justifying it for Luis.

"What did you expect, mijo? Nobody wanted her to do it. No one wanted her here tonight. To spoil things." She looked him in the eye, her own full of tears, "You would have been dead by now Luis. I would have just buried you, attended your funeral..._No one wanted her around_." She whispered harshly.

Luis bent slightly so that his Mother could see the seriousness in his eyes when he spoke next, to see the truth of his words. "But I'm not dead, Mama."

Even as he spoke, even as his words meant to reassure and reprimand his Mother at the same time left his mouth, the words also resonated through him.

"I'm not dead." He whispered again to himself.

And that did change things. Because suddenly all the anger he had been harbouring for Sheridan's behaviour at his trial, for her jealous actions only contributing to the evidence against him, abruptly, he realised. He wasn't dead. He was free. He was proved innocent.

Perhaps he could begin to let go if his anger for Sheridan? Maybe he could look past it?

Lost in his own realisations he didn't see the profound effect his words had on Pilar. Her expression froze, the blood draining from her face. And all she could do was stare at her son's face.

He wasn't dead.

Knowing this wasn't the place to get lost in the tumultuous thoughts Luis shook himself back to reality. "I've been hearing things..."

He didn't even get the full sentence out before Pilar was waving her hand, cutting him off. "It will blow over Luis, give it time." She advised as she turned and left quickly.

Luis frowned after her, not liking the advice. He'd never been good at the whole 'turning a blind eye' thing. He liked to face things head on. Grasp the bull's horns, so to speak.

And then the worry that he'd been suppressing couldn't be held back anymore. How was Sheridan? How was she dealing with these comments? He was all alone at the cottage; at least, he assumed so. His stomach swooped unexpectedly at the thought of her having male company, male company he didn't know about...all alone up at the cottage...

Maybe he should stop by, just to see how she was doing? He only needed to be civil; she couldn't possibly expect more from him. But he was worried about her.

And for the first time he let himself think the thoughts that had occurred to him when he had seen her on his execution day.

She didn't look well.

Paloma had said something about Sheridan looking tired, that she'd lost weight yesterday, but had been shouted down before she could even finish. At the time Luis had been happy to change the subject, not wanting to talk about Sheridan, he was having enough difficulty keeping her out of his thoughts already.

"Hey!" The bouncing, happy visage of Fancy brought him back down to earth and reality with harsh effectiveness.

What was he doing?!

Still, the worry wouldn't leave him and he really felt the need to go see Sheridan. Just to check that everything was okay. He just needed to check.

"Hey, you were great." He said, hating that he had no idea if that was true or not, be hadn't paid any attention.

She laughed, "Thanks! So," Fancy leaned in, placing her mouth on his ear, "I was thinking that maybe you and I could go to my place." She giggled.

Luis drew back. "Are you sure you're ready for that? I don't want you to feel like you have to, I'm not rushing you." He spoke with a frown of concern.

She smiled at him, thinking him the sweetest man in the world for asking. "I'm sure." She whispered, and caught his lips with hers.

Luis wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to relax and enjoy her kiss, but his mind wouldn't leave him alone.

His girlfriend had just invited him home for sex and all he could think about was how to get out of it so that he might be able to swing by Sheridan's. What the hell was wrong with him?!

He broke the kiss. "I can't tell you how good that sounds but I'm really tired. I think I'm just going to head home."

Her face fell, "But you slept the whole day away! How could you be tired?" He was turning her down?

Luis could see the insecurities beginning to swirl in her blue eyes and cupped her cheek gently, leaning in to brush his lips against hers. "Try to understand." Because he sure didn't.

She sighed in disappointment. "Alright. Will you drive me home though?"

Luis sent her a questioning look and she blushed. "Yeah, I know, I drove here, but I can always pick up my car tomorrow."

"Isn't that a bit of a hassle?" He asked casually.

Her smile tightened. "I just...when it's night, I have some trouble, I mean, it's easier to forget when it's light, you know? I just feel safer with you."

And with those words Luis was reminded anew why he could hardly stand to think about Sheridan anymore. Here he was, just having turned down a night in Fancy's bed, intending to look in on Sheridan, the woman who had a hand in Fancy's assault.

My God, what sort of man had she turned him into?

Luis squeezed Fancy's hand. "Of course, come on, let's go." He smiled with warmth he didn't feel.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.


	11. No One To Show It To

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

...

The lights weren't on.

He'd been sitting in his car for ten minutes, staring at the cottage he had spent so much time in. It felt...strange. It had only taken him the short drive over here to realise that he couldn't go in, couldn't ring the doorbell.

What would he say? That he was just checking up on her? He didn't want to send mixed signals.

That he knew why she wasn't at the tree-lighting? It wouldn't change anything.

That he was sorry? He wasn't sure that he was. Yes, he was worried about how Sheridan was coping, but she wouldn't want his pity and that's all he could give her...

Dark, brown eyes searched the black windows, taking in the lack of Christmas decorations and shook his head.

He had no business being here.

Turning on the ignition, he gave the once familiar home one last look before pulling away from the curb.

It wasn't his place to be worried about her anymore.

...

The cottage was quiet and empty in the early afternoon hours, its mistress gone.

The sound of ringing echoed through the rooms.

"_You've reached Sheridan Crane. I'm not home right now, but if you leave your name and number I'll get back to you as soon as I can." _

Beeep.

"_Miss Crane, its Peter Gordon from Crane Industries calling. _

_As you asked us, we've kept you up to date with Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald's movements within the company. However, there's been a new development. _

_She wants to build satellite town beside Harmony and has been making inquires as to the production costs and such to expand into the forests to the East of your cottage. No-one knows that you have bought the land, as per your wishes and Theresa_ _assumes much like everyone else, that Crane Industries own the land. _

_We've been delaying her, conveniently loosing documents and having our people misdirect her, the usual run around. _

_But she's determined to see this project happen, Miss Crane. _

_If you could call me and let me know what you wish us all to do on our end, I'd be very thankful...Merry Christmas, Miss Crane."_

Beeep.

The cottage was plunged into now familiar silence once again.

...

Sheridan walked out of the church after a furtive look to check if anyone she knew was outside.

It was 4pm and mass had just finished. She hated the idea of not going to midnight mass, to see the candles and flowers draping the pews as everybody in town gathered for Father Lonnigan's service. But she hated the idea of seeing everybody she knew...Luis, even more.

"Sheridan!"

She stiffened at the unexpected call. She had been so careful! Closing her eyes in defeat, she slowly turned back around to face the person calling her.

Paloma came to a huffing stop in front of her, bending so that her gloved hands rested on her knees for a moment, in order to catch her breath. Despite her efforts, a small bittersweet smile spread across her lips.

"What?" Palmona grinned, seeing the smile.

The small happiness fell quickly from her face, "Nothing...you've just always been a ball of energy, Paloma...it's nice to see Harmony hasn't changed that about you." She said quietly, demurely.

Paloma frowned at the beaten down looking woman, seeing the way she was hugging her black, woollen, three quarter length coat tightly around her. Her pretty blue eyes nervous, darting around the snow covered space at the front of the church, refusing to meet the young woman's gaze.

But it was the sight of her blue tinged hands that had Paloma's eyes widening in dismay. No gloves in sight to ward against the chill.

"Sheridan! Where are your gloves?!" She exclaimed, reaching forward and grabbing both frozen limbs she rubbed them together determinedly, hoping the friction would bring back some warmth. "You have to take care of yourself more, Sheridan." She said more gently, but no less worriedly.

"I-I must have dropped them somewhere...I'm so clumsy, you know." Sheridan lied badly as she softly extracted her hands from Paloma's.

The truth was Sheridan hadn't bothered to look for gloves, scarf or hat before venturing out into the white covered landscape. Her mind had been otherwise occupied.

Paloma looked unconvinced, but she didn't push. "So, what are you doing here?" She asked instead.

Judging from Sheridan's 'deer caught in headlights' look, it wasn't as safe a topic she had hoped.

"Oh, well, I'm..." Sheridan cleared her throat, widening her eyes in an effort to force the tears welling there away.

She didn't want Paloma to know. She loved the younger woman, but she also knew how much she adored her second oldest brother. What if she told them?

But a voice in the back of her mind reminded her that there was no reason Paloma would say anything. Sheridan was hardly a happy conversational topic.

No, she was being self-involved again. Stupid Sheridan Crane thinking the world revolves around her, she breathed out slowly.

They wouldn't even care. Paloma was just being polite because the girl wasn't capable of a mean thought.

"I was going to mass." Sheridan said softly. Her eyes down cast.

She didn't see Paloma's eyes frowning in growing suspicion. "You're not coming to midnight mass tonight, are you?"

Sheridan looked into her eyes for the first time, eyes so much like Luis's she wanted to cry. She gave a shaky smile and shook her head, not able to voice the words.

"But...Sheridan, it's Christmas Eve. You have to come!" She implored.

Seeing the shell that was left of the woman in front of her scared Paloma, what were they doing to her?! Sheridan didn't even feel like she could attend Church!

It wasn't right! She thought fiercely, her Mexican temper sparking.

"Please come! If it's Luis and Fancy that you don't want to see, I'll sit with you, in the back. I'll make sure that you don't run into them." She promised fiercely.

And Noah would be helping her, make no mistake! Fancy was his ex-girlfriend. If it came down to it, Noah would be able to control her...she hoped.

"No!" Sheridan denied loudly.

When Paloma's eyes went wide she knew that her vehement, loud refusal had surprised Luis's sister. Making an effort to lower her voice, she tried to explain.

"Thank-you, Paloma...but no. I just don't feel up to it. I've just been to mass and...I don't want to destroy anyone's evening. This is a time for family; you should be able to sit beside yours. Not be forced to sit next to me." She gave a humourless chuckle hoping Paloma would laugh at the depreciating jab at herself, but the attractive girl just stared at her sadly.

Sheridan turned away, uncomfortable to be seen through so easily. She didn't deserve Paloma's kindness anyhow, and Luis wouldn't look kindly on her speaking with his little sister.

No doubt the whole town would believe she was trying to influence Paloma, poison her against Fancy and enlist her help in an evil scheme to win back Luis.

"It's just...better this way, Paloma." She whispered. "Merry Christmas." She gave the girl she thought the world of her best smile. Not knowing that the wide beam showed off the hollowness underneath her cheekbones starkly.

Nor did Sheridan see the way Paloma watched her retreating figure anxiously, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth as she tried to convince herself that Sheridan would be alright. That she hadn't seemed broken beyond repair.

Because the thought was terrifying.

...

"Gerorge, will you please make sure that Little Ethan's ice skates are cleaned and the blades tightened?" Theresa asked as she wrapped a large, fluffy scarf around her neck.

"Of course, Mame." The sixty year old, pepper haired, butler replied stiffly.

Theresa hadn't noticed that Alice, her maid, hadn't said good morning to her for months. That the cook always found an excuse not to serve any of the dishes she requested. She hadn't realised that her chauffeur was always conveniently, 'nowhere to be found' whenever she was running late for a meeting.

Theresa lived her life in the Crane Mansion totally oblivious to the cold demeanours of the staff.

"I'm going to be staying at my mother's house tonight and Christmas night, but we'll be back on Boxing Day." She muttered distractedly, searching her briefcase for the files on the large forested land that Crane Industries owned.

She didn't like that she would have to do at least some work today, but she didn't trust anyone over at Crane Industries. They didn't like her, thought she had no right, no business running Crane, but she didn't care. The important thing was that she_ was_ in charge of the large corporation, and no one could do a damn thing about it.

George waited until his new employer closed the front door before turning around to face Annie and John.

They all had various jobs in the house, a Mansion this size required more work than most realised. Almost thirty five people alone worked on the estate, not counting the five gardeners.

"Is it done?" he asked.

Annie smiled. She had been on the staff for only three years, but she knew how much George cared for Sheridan. All of them did, but the staff that had worked for the Crane family the longest held a special regard for the youngest child of Alistair Crane.

"Yes."

George smiled, relieved. It had taken some serious juggling to make sure twenty of the staff hadn't been missed for the last three hours, but she was more than worth the extra stress and hassle it had cost him.

"And?" He pressed.

John, the head gardener, grinned. "It looks great."

...

Sheridan pulled into her driveway and shut off the car.

She didn't move, just stared at the steering wheel in front of her, her thoughts ticking over.

Tomorrow was Christmas day and she had nowhere to go. No one to see.

Julian was with Eve, she was well aware of her low rank of importance in her brother's life. She came after a lot of people for Julian, let alone the person her brother loved most in the world.

There wouldn't be anyone there to greet, no one to attempt cooking an awful plum pudding for.

No one.

The thought of walking into that utterly empty cottage right now was almost too much for her.

This was too hard.

Raising a shaking hand to her face, she wiped away the tear tracks on her cheeks.

She couldn't be here tomorrow. Knowing everyone else was happier for her lack of presence.

She'd go away.

Sheridan had had a small shack-like structure built about an hour and a half away from Harmony. It was isolated; a mud track was the only way to get there. But it was in the most gorgeous spot.

It was situated deep within the forested land she had purchased from her father and Crane Industries.

It overlooked sheer cliffs, the ocean waves crashing against the stone below. Conifer trees encased the small, naturally formed meadow of space, giving the remote, secluded area, far away from civilisation, a sense of comforting protection.

And the best thing about it was that George was the only person she had told about the cabin. She'd gone there after her miscarriage. Wasn't stupid enough to leave without at least one person, knowing where she was. Cell-phone reception wasn't great up there.

She'd leave early tomorrow morning, as the sun rose. It's not like she would sleep anyway.

With more effort than it should have taken, Sheridan pushed her car door open and slid out. Clicking the automatic lock, she hoisted her handbag higher on her shoulder and turned around.

"Oh..." Her breath left her.

Her body wouldn't move.

All she could do was stare.

Her cottage...choking back a sob, she raised a small hand to cover her mouth.

Beautiful, amber yellow fairy lights were hanging everywhere! The dusk light did nothing to stunt their soft, twinkling glow.

Walking forward slowly, her eyes awed and filled with tears, she smiled.

"Beautiful..." The breathless whisper was torn from her as she turned in a slow circle.

The large, dome shaped tree in front of her house had long strings of fairy lights hanging from its limbs, the snow beneath it only adding to the surreal effect. Her porch veranda had the small, yellow glows circling around individual columns of wood.

There was even a wreath.

A broken, watery smile dominated her face as she reached up for the small, simple Christmas card tucked under one of the holy leaves.

_Merry Christmas, Miss Crane._

She would recognise George's hand-writing anywhere.

She unlocked her front door. A middle-sized Christmas tree, an angel on top, caught her attention immediately.

They'd thought of everything.

A waning fire burned in the fireplace, explaining the unexpected warmth of her living room. The room had been freezing when she had left for Mass.

With the utmost care, she took the simple, white card with a golden reindeer on the front and placed it in the centre of her bare mantle piece.

It looked lonely there, all by itself, but she tried not to think too long on what was missing.

It was beautiful. She wanted to tell someone but...she stroked the edge of the card, trying to comfort herself.

It was beautiful.

...And she had no one to show it to.

...


	12. Centre of his attention

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

_LOL, __QuetaLyn, shuis88 and Soul93 you all should enjoy this chapter I think, Paloma just isn't the type to sit idly by and watch what she thinks is an injustice being done! _

...

Fancy looked around the stone church with awe. It was all so beautiful! Sure, she wasn't very religious, but she could certainly see the appeal of this. There was just something so...serene and warm here.

The double wooden doors were wide open and welcoming, the chill of the gentle snow outside somehow not penetrating the interiors of the building despite the age and lack of modern day heaters. Holly hung in bunches along every pew while fairy lights illuminated the grey stone above the dais making the harsh rock seemed safe and comforting.

Everybody was smiling happily, greeting friends warmly and kissing cheeks. A low hum of soft conversation filled the church making Fancy smile.

It was lovely.

She squeezed the strong arm linked with her own and sighed with contentment as she leaned her head against the warm, hard muscle just below his shoulder.

She was happy.

"Are you going to sit with your family?" Luis whispered softly against her hair.

Fancy mutely shook her head, smiling gently up at his handsome visage.

"Not a chance." She murmured back.

Luis nodded down at her but didn't say anything in reply, simply led her to one of the pews further back where his family were sitting.

Fancy felt a little awkward as her small, blue eyes made contact with Noah's, but it passed quickly. He had his arm wrapped firmly around Paloma's waist and, taking the opportunity to search his eyes for any lingering love he might be feeling for her, Fancy was pleased to see nothing but affection for who she was sure would be her sister-in-law one day.

She also recognised the pang of annoyance which came along with the evidence of Noah having moved on from her, her ego and pride bruising a bit, but that was normal, she was sure. Nobody liked knowing that they were replaceable.

Pilar stood to greet the couple, hugging both Fancy and Luis tightly.

Her feelings might have been motivated by vanity of a sort, but she was also well aware that she had the better man now.

Luis was the greatest catch she had ever come across. He was handsome, respectful and intelligent and he wouldn't take any crap from her. No, Fancy knew that Luis would have no compunction in telling her when she was wrong. Unlike her previous partners, even Noah to an extent, who were afraid that to do so might drive her away from them, Luis had no such fear.

And she'd never leave him.

Fancy loved Luis with a passion and depth that she had never experienced before, it wasn't something she intended on loosing.

"Pilar," Fancy leaned forward to look around Luis in order to make contact with Pilar's brown eyes. "The decorations are wonderful. You should feel very proud of yourself."

Pilar smiled. "Thank-you, Fancy."

"Paloma...you alright?" The soft words caught her attention.

Fancy turned with a frown to see Luis staring at his sister's tense expression in concern.

"Yes." Paloma smiled tightly at her brother and Fancy watched as Luis's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You sure?" He pressed.

"I'm fine, Luis."

"Don't even bother, Luis," Miguel sighed with exasperation. "She's been like that ever since she came back from her walk this afternoon. I have yet to find out what has put her in such a happy mood." He rolled his eyes, but Fancy could see the small slither of concern he looked at his youngest sibling with not a moment later.

Luis's warm hand slid out of her grasp as he turned more fully in Paloma's direction. Despite knowing that she shouldn't, Fancy couldn't help the faint prickle of annoyance at Paloma stealing her brother's attention from her so effectively.

He was always so concerned for her.

Then again, she smiled, that protectiveness was one of the things she loved most about him. And she knew that she'd always have to share him with his family, normally she didn't have a problem with it. The Lopez-Fitzgerald's had been so good to her, so supportive of her and Luis's new relationship following their time in Rome.

Still, couldn't Paloma have waited a couple of weeks before having whatever crisis she was going through? She'd only just got Luis back. Was it wrong of her to want to be the centre of his attention for a while? She didn't think so.

Her eyes flicked towards Noah, wanting to see if he knew what had Paloma sitting so stiffly in her seat.

Noah's eyes held understanding and some shared disquiet within their depths. He knew exactly what was bothering Luis's little sister.

"Noah?" Fancy questioned. When her ex turned to face her with an enquiring look, she raised an expectant eyebrow demanding an answer.

Suddenly, the angry face of Paloma Lopez-Fitzgerald was blocking her view of Noah as the young woman leaned forward and deliberately inserted herself in their line of vision.

"Don't try to get Noah to satisfy your curiousity, Fancy. I said that I'm fine, nothing is bothering me, so _please_, respect that, and let it go." She said with a small glare, her jaw tight as if she were clenching her teeth together.

Surprised by the girl's reaction she blinked slowly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude...it's just that Noah and I have a history...I'm sorry, I didn't think." She forced herself to apologise.

It annoyed her, but she could also understand Paloma's reaction. Noah was her boyfriend now, his loyalty should and was to her, not Fancy anymore.

Paloma just nodded.

Luis wasn't paying her any attention, still watching his sister's face for any revealing clue while Miguel gave her a strained smile. Noah frowned at her faintly, as if upset that she'd brought up their past together in front of his girlfriend.

She bit her lip, upset at the awkward air that had descended on the group with Paloma telling her off. Shifting back in her seat, she twisted her hands together wishing that Father Lonnigan would appear and start the service already.

She'd just been trying to help. Yes, it was motivated chiefly from wanting Luis to stop worrying and return his attention to her, but she wasn't heartless. She hadn't liked seeing Paloma looking so confused, yet angry as she sat in Church waiting for Midnight Mass to begin.

"It's alright."

She turned at the soft words; Luis was staring at her with understanding eyes. "Paloma's just a private person, Fancy. You can't take her attitude to heart, she would have snapped at anyone who had pressed her." He explained in a quiet voice that no-one other than she would be able to hear.

Fancy raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Really? Didn't see her claws come out when you were asking." She stated pointedly.

Luis grinned roguishly. "There are some perks to being her favourite sibling."

Fancy couldn't help it, his smile was infectious. She giggled quietly and leaned into his side, accepting his explanation. Not knowing that Luis was giving his sister a speculative look from over her blonde head.

...

Pilar walked out of the church with a churning feeling in her gut. She had been looking forward to tonight with anticipation.

Midnight Mass was always wonderful, full of light and love as the whole town came together in the late hours to celebrate together. It was a beautiful way to begin Christmas Day celebrations.

But she hadn't been able to enjoy it.

A ball of tension had taken up residence in her belly at around mid-afternoon today and it had only grown.

Paloma's accusing eyes never letting her forget what her daughter had angrily revealed when she had come back from her walk.

_(FlashBack)_

_Pilar startled at the sound of her fly wire door slamming shut, only to bang against the metal of her front door and spring back due to the excessive force applied. _

_She rose from her chair in the living room as the answer to the loud sounds came tearing through the front door, stomping down the three small stairs. _

"_Paloma?" She gasped, rushing to put down her sowing. "What on Earth...?"_

_Her daughter yanked angrily at the belt keeping her dark coat firmly together, jerking the heavy material down her arms and throwing it crossly into the chair beside the hallstand, instead of on her normally preferred coat hook. _

"_Is wrong?" Paloma finished for Pilar, her voice mocking and hurt, as she tugged her white, fluffy scarf sharply from around her neck. "Oh, I don't know!" _

_She lifted one leg to rest it on the rim of the chair, leaning down to unzip her knee high boot in a quick, angry motion. "Maybe it's the fact that my Brother was almost executed for a crime he didn't commit." _

_She pulled off the boot and let it drop loudly to the floor. "Maybe it's because nobody cares that Sheridan looked terrible at the execution, too busy rubbing her face in the fact that she isn't perfect and every single person she cares about doesn't give one wit about her now!" _

_She wrenched the other boot from her foot without having undone the zipper more than half way. "Maybe it's because one of the kindest, gentlest women I have ever met, who has always been nothing but good to me, is being treated like a leper! And if I say anything that isn't derogatory about her, my family thinks that I'm betraying them!" _

_She swirled around to face Pilar's shocked, frozen form with angry, confused and worried eyes. "And maybe it's because I just met that same woman, watched her sneaking out of church as if she were afraid she would be thrown from it if she were even found there. Maybe what's wrong with me, Mama is that I can't stand the knowledge of how we've completely shattered Sheridan Crane; broken her to such an extent that she does not even feel welcome to attend Midnight Mass." _

_She was crying now, furious tears trailing down her face. "Maybe it's because I can't stand the shame of what we've done to her." She whispered harshly. _

_Pilar could only stand there, incapable of speech as her youngest glared at her accusingly before turning on her heel and sweeping from the room. _

_(End FlashBack)_

It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault. It was like a continuous mantra in her head, holding her world together.

Whatever Sheridan was feeling right now, it was not her fault.

...It wasn't.

...

Luis stared up at his bedroom ceiling, sleep eluding him.

He'd turned down Fancy's offer to stay with her for the night...again.

He knew that his second rejection had hurt her. His first could be taken at face value, but Fancy was well aware that she was an attractive woman and a second rebuff wouldn't be taken very well.

He sighed, rolling onto his side and stuffing the navy pillow beneath his head Luis determinedly shut his eyes. He hoped that she attributed it to his wanting to be near family so soon after his being released, but knowing Fancy...

He groaned.

He hadn't been in the mood though. Paloma wouldn't look him in the eye, his Mother was preoccupied with her thoughts and Miguel was no help. His brother knew something was up, but he hadn't been confided in by either woman.

...

She hadn't been there tonight.

Sheridan.

His eyes, just like they had during the tree-lighting, had searched the crowd out of their own volition it seemed. The involuntary action was really beginning to annoy him too, but it also meant that he knew that Sheridan hadn't come tonight.

She never missed Midnight Mass, just like she never missed the tree-lighting ceremony.

And despite his anger, his renewed conviction that it was no longer his concern and that he ought to be focusing on Fancy, his worry was growing.

Every little thing; her nonattendance at town events, the hateful gossip circulating Harmony, her physical absence on the town's streets, her condition at his execution; all those concerns were mounting in volume within his mind, determined to be heard.

...

He didn't want to feel this way.

He didn't want to feel the worry, the anger on her behalf at the town's slurs against her character.

He didn't want to feel concern at the dark, purple bruises and thin wrists he had spotted from his execution table.

He didn't want to care.

...But he did. Even after everything, he _still _cared about her.

And man, if that fact didn't ignite his temper.


	13. Miss Me?

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

"Theresa? Are you ready yet? We're already late!" Ethan yelled from downstairs.

Theresa was in her son's room in the Crane Mansion, sitting at the end of Little Ethan's single bed staring silently at a pair of old white skates. A frown was pulling at her brows as she twisted the skates this way and that, looking at the still muddy from last year leather and frayed laces; testing the wobbly silver blade with her right index finger.

"Theresa? Why didn't you answer me? Little Ethan, Jane and I are all waiting for you downstairs."

After not getting an answer Ethan had climbed the familiar, curling staircase to the upper levels of his childhood home and located her.

Theresa looked up at him and held out the skates silently. Ethan stared at her confused, but obligingly took the shoes from her.

"I asked George to make sure that the blades were tightened and they were fit to be used by Little Ethan yesterday." She explained.

Ethan only needed one glance to know that the boy wouldn't be skating in these any time soon.

"I wanted to take the kids ice-skating tomorrow. With the holidays everything is going to be closed, I can't even get Little Ethan a new pair!"

Ethan put the white skates onto the ground beside the wall. "Honey, it doesn't matter. George was probably busy and just forgot. He didn't do it on purpose and we can take the kids some other time."

"I've only taken these two days off work, Ethan! I won't have another time!" She exclaimed.

Ethan smiled at her dramatic reaction. She was always so invested in everything, her responses fuelled by her emotions. "I didn't want to say anything earlier," He began, getting her attention, "But I'd noticed that Little Ethan has grown a lot since last year and got him a new pair for Christmas. I have them all wrapped up in bright red paper with an orange bow in the car."

Theresa grinned, wrapping her arms around his waist and rising to kiss him. "You're perfect, you know that?" She said.

"I do now." Ethan grinned.

She smiled back before the expression faded as her eyes took on a calculative gleam he recognised well. "I wonder why George forgot to fix the skates though." She murmured to herself.

Ethan sighed. "Theresa, the man has a million and one things to do around here this time of year." He explained. "And if we don't leave now we won't even be able to get away with the excuse of wanting to be fashionably late." He reminded her.

As they walked down the corridor Theresa continued her musings aloud. "But Ethan, George is famous for never forgetting to do anything. How else do you think he was hired by and survived Alistair as an employer?"

"Can't you just let it go, Theresa?"

"No. I have to know exactly what's going on here and at Crane Industries. They don't think I have any right to my position, Ethan. I can't trust them. The only way I've been able to do anything is through sheer perseverance and a healthy dose of paranoia when it comes to taking things Crane employees say at face value."

Ethan chuckled while he nodded his acknowledgement. Honestly, he was more surprised than almost anyone that Theresa had managed to get anything done at Crane. He knew more than even her how deeply his former colleagues would view her rise to the top.

He was also more than aware that Theresa's luck so far had been mainly luck. She had been allowed to take the steps that she had, if she decided to pursue something that wasn't agreed with...well, Ethan didn't want to spoil it for her.

She was so proud of the fact that she, a poor Mexican-Irish girl had taken the reins of Crane and was in control. She would be humiliated and devastated to find out that the power she thought she wielded had only been granted to her on the auspices of another.

"I'll find out what's going on." Theresa stated confidently.

Reaching into her handbag, she retrieved her mobile phone and got in contact with Crane surveillance. Ethan said nothing as she threatened them into getting her the information she wanted about any movements by the Crane staff she had missed in recent days.

"All done. They'll get back to me soon." She smiled up at him sunnily and he just returned the gesture, bending down to kiss the top of her head.

She was so proud of herself; he wouldn't ruin it with the truth. It wouldn't hurt anyone for her to keep on believing that she really did have control of Crane.

...

"Merry Christmas!"

Luis grinned crookedly as his mother held up the hard back cookery book he had purchased for her and the expensive bottle of port in the crimson velvet sleave beside it.

Her eyes were already riveted on the first recipe, the book open on her lap.

As the door bell rang, Luis swivelled in his seat on the couch in order to face the front door. "Come in!" He hollered happily.

The unassuming entrance was pushed open forcefully as a little ball of energy bolted inside and down into the living room.

"Jingle Bells! Jingle Bells! Jingle Bells!" Little Maria sang the Christmas carol in a horribly off-key voice as she came tearing around the couches, headed straight for the brightly lit Christmas tree and the multitude of cheerfully wrapped presents at its base.

"She hasn't stopped singing that since seven this morning," Miguel chuckled, as he came through the open doorway with his arm wrapped securely around Kay's waist.

The eldest Bennet girl grinned with the same sparkling brown eyes she's had since she was a mischievous toddler herself, "Unfortunately, Maria doesn't know any of the other words to the song so we might be in for a day of this."

Kay looked at her daughter with an indulgent smile as the little girl hummed the words, an adorably focused frown on her face as she sorted through the presents.

Luis and Miguel exchanged hugs of greeting while Kay kissed Paloma and her brother on the cheek.

"Where's Theresa?" Miguel asked absently as he bent down to scoop up his daughter, lifting her high to the ceiling and grinning widely at her squeals of delight.

Luis rolled his eyes. "What? You expected her to get here on time?"

Miguel threw him an understanding look before once again becoming thoroughly distracted by the tiny human in his arms.

Luis felt the familiar knife in his heart as he observed the Father and child moment. Marty was only a year older than Maria. It was difficult not to feel resentment sometimes. He could be walking down the street and see a blonde woman with her four year old son and all he could think was how unfair it was. How unfair that Sheridan and he, who had gone through so much, had lost their child, their son, their Marty.

Why them?

"Where's Fancy?" Kay asked as she bent down to kiss Luis on his cheek. Sending a pointed look towards Noah and herself in explanation.

Luis smiled crookedly at her, hoping to avoid the question, but his charming act had never been effective on Kay Bennet in the past and she just sent him an amused look. She had only ever had eyes for Miguel, that girl.

"She's coming for lunch." He answered quietly, making sure only she heard. The last thing he wanted was to have that conversation with his family again.

She nodded and, thankfully, didn't say anything.

Hot chocolate made the rounds, Bing Crosby playing in the background while Luis tried to relax back into the sofa. Tried to ignore how alien he felt. It didn't feel like Christmas. The tree was there, it was gently snowing, family surrounded him, still, it didn't feel...right.

...

"Here, Miss Crane. The cook asked me to pass this along. She didn't want you going without the traditional Christmas ham and turkey." Sheridan took the good sized container knowing that potatoes, gravy and vegetables were no doubt amongst the care package as well.

"Thank-you." She smiled gently and ignored the concerned disapproval on his aged features as his green eyes took in her body's physical changes.

"You need to eat more, Sheridan." He said softly, raising a hand to help her step into the large jeep.

He'd always been like that. Looking out for her.

"I'm fine." She tried to reassure him after she'd rolled down the car window. Judging from his expression she hadn't been successful. "I just need some space, time to think. The cabin will let me do so in peace." She explained.

George was fully aware of her movements over at Crane Industries. He fielded any phone calls or documents that got sent to the wrong place and if she couldn't be got in contact with, Crane always left the message with him. He was one of a very small number that knew of her owning the forested land east of Harmony, and the only person that knew that she'd had a small cabin built up there.

"I don't think anyone will come looking for me, but if someone does just deflect them until I get back, please." She entreated, waiting for his nod of agreement before breaking eye-contact with him.

"You'll be careful?" He frowned, concerned.

Sheridan sighed tiredly. "Of course." She smiled softly.

At least someone cared.

...

Fancy made a concerted effort to subdue the beaming grin splitting her face in two as she fluffed her hair into a more attractive do.

Nodding in satisfaction, she leaned forward and rang the bell, impatience thrumming through her as she waiting for one of the many loud voices inside to answer the door.

"Fancy, you're here! Merry Christmas!" Ethan smiled widely, sweeping her inside with a deft, one-armed action.

She pecked his cheek in happy acknowledgment, before turning to face the room with searching eyes. The room was practically vibrating with energy. Bright colours, laughing voices, singing carols, it was precisely what Fancy had always thought Christmas ought to be like.

"Luis!" She squealed, racing forward to envelop her man in a tight embrace.

Not waiting for a reply, certain that the shocked look in his eyes was merely surprise for her manner of entrance, she stood on tip toe and dragged him into a deep, knee-weakening, for her at least, kiss.

The cat-calls and good natured hollers that erupted around them had her breaking the kiss with a smile. "Miss me?" She whispered against his lips.

...

_Hey all! Sorry for the wait, but I hope the chapter was worth it ;D_


	14. Dream and Reality

Disclaimer: I do not own Passions

Pilar looked at all the people sitting at her table, the feast in front of them, and smiled happily.

Briiing Briiing.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Theresa exclaimed, reaching around for the small handbag hanging off the back of her chair, "I meant to turn it off."

Rifling through the ringing bag she finally pulled out the phone and glanced at the screen, her face falling slightly. "I really ought to get this." She said to the table apologetically.

"It's Christmas Lunch, Theresa, surely it can wait." Luis stated pointedly, brown eyes staring at his little sister disapprovingly.

"It won't take a minute, please, excuse me." Theresa deliberately ignored her brother's words, rising from the table and sweeping from the room to talk in the more private kitchen.

Pilar glanced away from her daughter's disappearing form when Luis sighed in exasperation, shaking his head.

"Any idea what that was about, Ethan? Should I be concerned?" Luis rolled his eyes, raising the red wine glass to his lips.

Pilar smiled affectionately at her son, he was always so good to them.

Ethan shrugged. "She's worried about Crane, Luis, like usual. She thinks the mansion's staff might be keeping things from her." He said with an expression on his face that said 'what can you do?'

Pilar frowned down at her plate.

If Theresa had the feeling that the staff weren't telling her everything she had no doubt that it was true. She had been a part of that household for years. She, more than almost anyone, understood the power that the head housekeeper and butler had within Crane industries. There acted as the middle man between the master of the Crane family, and consequently, Crane Industries, and the company's directors.

For that reason, the staff at Crane mansion had much more power than most ever realised. They were the ones that decided if the message was important enough to inform their employers, they were the ones who translated the instructions back to Crane. And the man with the final say was the manor's butler, the one in charge of all the staff, George.

"Oh?" Pilar hoped her voice sounded casual. "Is she right?" She asked Ethan with serious eyes.

Ethan opened his mouth to reply, but didn't say anything.

Throwing a look over his shoulder to make sure Theresa was still in the kitchen, he turned back to Pilar. "You know how these sorts of things can be, Pilar. They just have to get used to her. Unfortunately, Theresa sees them as employees that she shouldn't have to cater to. In her mind, they don't have to like her, that isn't what they're paid for." Ethan parted with the information reluctantly, clearly unhappy with having to put voice to a less than complimentary picture of Theresa.

"You're kidding!" Noah shook his head in astonishment, "Even I know that it's important for your staff to like you."

When Theresa had moved into the mansion, and then took over the running of Crane Industries, Pilar had wondered whether to say anything to her daughter. But really, what good would it do? No matter what Theresa may believe, the real power behind the company was already set, and there wasn't anything she could do to change that.

Yes, she was CEO, but ultimately the title meant nothing if the employees of Crane believed someone else was in charge.

So, she kept her silence and nodded along, smiling thinly, when her daughter would go off on a tangent about the work she was doing over at Crane.

It would gain her nothing to rock the boat now.

"Was there anything in particular that happened to make her think that way?" Kay asked her half-brother curiously.

Ethan waved the question away, "George forgot to do something she had asked him to do for Little Ethan."

Pilar glanced up with a frown. It was unlike her former friend and superior to call such attention to him-self, especially considering the situation.

Discreetly, she turned to look at Luis's silent figure. He was staring at his wine glass, running a single finger around its rim, an unreadable expression on his face.

Did he know how things over at Crane really worked? Had Sheridan told him of her influence and silent power within the conglomerate? Even she knew nothing more than the absolute basics and that was due, far more, to having worked in that house for two decades than being told anything of value.

She eyed her son speculatively. Something told her that Luis knew far more about everything than anyone else sitting at her table did.

The only question she had was if that were true, why wasn't he telling them? Why wasn't he saying anything to his sister?

She had her reasons for not speaking, most of them revolved around the fact that she simply didn't have enough information for what she had, to be of any real use to Theresa. But if she was correct, Luis might well have the missing puzzle pieces.

So what was stopping him? He owed Sheridan no loyalty here. Certainly nothing that would supersede his loyalty to his family.

So why was he silent?

"She shouldn't be worried," Fancy smiled at the table knowingly. "Even the staff at Crane can mess up sometimes. If she has any other problems, dropping my name into the conversation will definitely help get them on side. I was practically their surrogate child growing up!" She laughed. "They adore me."

...

Ethan stared at Fancy, speechless.

Drop her name in conversation...to help? He couldn't think of anything that Theresa could possibly do that would be worse!

"Fancy..." He breathed her name on an uncomfortable sounding chuckle, "Are you sure that would be wise?" He gave her a long look full of silent meaning.

Normally, he'd let the comment go. Everyone fibbed about themselves to look better. But this was different. What if Theresa took her seriously? He wouldn't have the woman he loved hurt because Fancy was trying to impress Luis.

"Why wouldn't it be?" She smiled with confused eyes.

Ethan sat back with a perplexed frown. "Are you being serious?" He demanded.

There was no way that his sister didn't know how the Crane Help felt about her, right? Was such a level of delusion even possible?

"Of course I am. I just want to help." There was no lie in her eyes. She believed what she was saying.

Ethan shook his head in disbelief and was about to thoroughly disabuse her of the ridiculous notion she was existing under, when Luis caught his eye.

Luis shook his head silently, the action going unnoticed by his girlfriend.

Ethan sighed heavily before sending Fancy a strained smile, "Thanks."

...

Luis was thankful when Ethan did as he asked, and refrained from informing Fancy of a fact that she ought to have been well aware of by herself.

She didn't take criticism well. If Fancy had found out that the Crane staff merely tolerated her, nothing more, she'd demand to know why they thought that, they'd argue, she'd realise they were right, and then she'd want to do something about it.

She'd probably want to march up to the mansion right now and talk out the differences between them. It'd be a nightmare which he had no intention of living through.

"You're welcome, Theresa shouldn't work so hard. You'd think the place would fall apart without her with the amount of hours she puts in." Fancy commented laughingly.

The reminder of his sister's lack of knowledge did nothing to improve his mood. Sheridan and he had shared everything when they were together.

He'd been shocked, to find out that she wasn't as cut off from Crane Industries as she so carefully portrayed to the public. Even when her father had been alive Sheridan was able to use the company on rare occasions, and have it escape her father's notice.

Even with Theresa in charge, he had never had any doubt as to the identity of the real person pulling the strings.

He'd had nothing to do in that cell, day after day, but think. He'd had contemplated breaking Sheridan's confidences. He'd been so furious with her. Theresa was his sister; Luis owed it to her to tell her what he knew. But he couldn't do it.

His inability to betray her, even as things were between them, had thrown him into a rage that had lasted weeks.

He resented her, hated her for making him feel like he was being disloyal to his family.

But he'd never said anything.

If, at the height of his rage, when his reason was clouded by a haze of red and he'd been the most furious with her and the most worried about his family, he'd kept her secret. As he was now: free from prison, his anger that had seemed so all-consuming before, cooling despite his best efforts to maintain its heat. When unwanted, yet very real worry for her was creeping inside of him, growing larger with the more he witnessed, there was no chance he'd tell them now.

"What's wrong with Ethan?" Fancy whispered into his ear, showing that she wasn't as easily deceived as appeared.

When Sheridan had told him that she wanted to introduce him to someone right after they got engaged, he'd taken it in his stride.

He'd watched with amused eyes as she'd run around straightening pictures, changing bulbs, trying to cook dinner. She'd been both nervous and excited, and Luis had volunteered to answer the door when the bell rang.

Whoever he had thought would be joining them for the night; it wasn't the shockingly familiar face that greeted him when he'd pulled open the door.

A man he'd known all his life suddenly took on a whole new level of importance.

He hadn't needed to see anything beyond the affectionate light in her blue eyes when she's so proudly introduced the Crane's Butler as her second father, to know that this man was someone she considered family.

He'd grown up knowing only one emotion from the butler's green eyes; detachment. But when he'd met the man's gaze that night, calculating appraisal from eyes as hard as stone had challenged him, measured his worth.

Nothing about the dignified man was to be trifled with, that had been the conclusion he'd come to by the end of the night. People forgot that this was the individual Alistair Crane had personally selected as his effective second in command.

George wasn't a fair-minded man. He considered Sheridan his daughter, Fancy's existence, no matter whose fault it was, had hurt her.

Luis turned towards Fancy with a disarming grin in place, "Does it matter?"

And Fancy believed they viewed her with the affection of a parent!

He took a long drink of wine.

"I guess not." She murmured, her eyes glancing down at his lips. "Are you staying here again tonight?" She asked hesitantly, small blue eyes nervous.

The confidence that had filled her the past two nights she'd made this suggestion to him, nowhere to be found.

Luis picked up her hand, kissing the back of it gently. "I don't want Mama to be alone." He said by way of explanation.

He saw her deflate from the corner of his eye, "But aren't Ethan and Theresa staying the night? And with Paloma here as well, it seems a bit cramped already." Fancy argued lightly, not wanting to push him too far. "I assure you, there's far more room at my place." She whispered seductively against his ear.

Why was he, for the third time in a row, turning down his girlfriend's invitation to spend the night with her? He had promised himself, and Fancy, that he would give this relationship his full attention, give her his full attention. So why did he want an excuse to refuse her?

He wasn't the type of person to be indecisive, yet that's what he felt now. Indecisive.

Blue eyes pleaded silently with him.

"...Alright."

Fancy grinned widely at his agreement, practically vibrating with happiness.

...

"Wait, slow down, I can't understand you." Theresa spoke into the phone's receiver.

Huge, doe brown eyes widened to an impossible degree as she listened to the person on the other end of the line.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, well...thank-you, for getting the information to me so promptly,...and Merry Christmas." She shut the phone slowly, her eyes staring blindly at the white tiles of kitchen floor as her thoughts raced.

Suddenly, her head snapped up and she strode forward with a purposeful step, a heated glare in her eyes.

She pushed the heel of her hand against the wood, the door slamming open, and stalked into the living room.

"Theresa?" Pilar asked with alarm, already half-way out of her seat at the head of the table.

"I can't believe it." Theresa clenched her fists at her sides, "I was just told the most...unbelievable piece of information by Crane security. Apparently, the reason why George forgot to do what I had asked of him is because he really _did_ have _a lot_ going on." She sneered sarcastically.

"Theresa, do you mind cutting the dramatics?" Paloma snapped.

She was ignored, "Seems that the Butler had his work cut out for him making sure that some two thirds of the staff weren't missed for a good few hours yesterday. And do you know where they were? Hanging Christmas lights at Sheridan's cottage!"

Theresa swallowed, desperately trying to control her temper. Who did Sheridan think she was commandeering _her _staff!

"What?" Ethan stood up, folding his arms across his chest with a frown, "Theresa, that doesn't make any sense."

She rounded on him, "I just heard it! They were over there for hours yesterday hanging lights all over her garden and house! They even brought in a Christmas tree!"

"Theresa enough!" The dark, seething command pierced her like ice, freezing her angry diatribe in her throat.

She glanced up to see her brother's brown, almost black eyes glaring at her passionately. "This is none of our business," Luis's words brooked no argument. "The fact that you used Crane security to spy on the activities of the staff..."He trailed off with a disgusted curl to his lips. "Apart from your _request _concerning Little Ethan's skates, did they fail to perform any of their contracted duties?" He raised an expectant eyebrow at her.

Why did she feel so small right now? "No." She murmured, her fire all but extinguished.

"Then you have no right to know, inquire or complain about how they sent their hours." Luis stated strongly.

"I pay them!" Not able to take being scolded as if she were a child, she retaliated.

Black eyes flared. "_Crane Industries _pay them."

"I'm Crane Industries." Theresa cried, blinking back the moisture in her eyes.

Luis had always been able to make her feel like an absolute fool. Where even Ethan struggled to pull her out of her dream world and ground her in reality, Luis did so effortlessly and with all too effective success.

Silence swept through the room and she bit her lip against her tears, staring at the floor.

"I-I just...they're not allowed...I don't want them _associating _with..."She couldn't find the words to explain herself. Whenever she started to, she would realise that it she couldn't say it that way, that out loud, for some reason it sounded too harsh, too cruel. "She doesn't_ deserve_..."

"Theresa stop!" Pilar interrupted with a horrified cry.

"She's right though."

Theresa looked up from the ground to meet understanding, thankful blue eyes.

Fancy nodded at her, "Sheridan has no right to use Crane staff to decorate her home for Christmas, if she didn't think so too why try to keep her actions a secret?"

Theresa smiled in relief, pleased that someone had explained the situation clearly.

"Ah, but Fancy, that's not what my sister is so upset about, is it?" Paloma's eyes locked on hers and wouldn't let go. "She's angry because they did something nice for Sheridan, and because now she doesn't feel totally alone."

Theresa met her sister's accusatory stare without guilt.

The scraping sound of a chair being pushed back harshly seemed loud in the silent room. Startled, she turned towards the noise only to see Luis's back as he left the room.

"Theresa..." Ethan's sigh of disappointment from beside her had that ball of lead in her stomach sinking further.

...

_Hey! First, let me just say that it wasn't the fact the Theresa dislikes Sheridan that made them all, except Fancy, pause. It was her exposed vindictiveness to want her to suffer that had the others thinking she'd gone too far. Most are content with just ignoring Sheridan for the rest of their days; this was a step beyond that. _

_So, what did you think? ;D_


	15. Logic, Reason and Heart

Disclaimer: I do not own passions

"Luis?"

Luis closed his eyes, not allowing the angry sigh in his chest to escape.

"What is it, Fancy?" He asked, staring up at the darkening sky.

"I wanted to ask you that." She said pointedly.

"What are you talking about?" The stars were beautiful at Christmas, he didn't know why but they always seemed brighter this time of year.

"What am I talking about?" She echoed, "I'm talking about you storming out of the room just now. I'm talking about you leaving your sister in near tears. I'm talking about why you jumped on her like that, when there was no reason to."

Luis turned around slowly, his eyes disbelieving. "No reason? Fancy, Theresa was furious with the Crane staff because they did something nice for someone they've known for years. She wasn't upset that they hadn't done their duties, she was angry because she wanted Sheridan to be as miserable and alone as possible this Christmas!"

"And what's wrong with that?!" Fancy glared hotly.

Luis felt his already frayed temper stir dangerously. "Don't-"

"I _hope,_ with every fibre of my being, that she's miserable!" Fancy hissed, her fists balled at her sides. "I hope Sheridan feels as if she hasn't a friend in the world!"

Luis frowned darkly at his girlfriend.

Logic was telling him that Fancy's hatred was natural, that she, unlike Theresa, actually had some cause for the emotion. Reason seemed to scoff at him and ask, what did he think was going to happen? That his girlfriend's ire would cool? That, like his own anger seemed to be doing, Fancy's feelings of blame and resentment would fade?

For God's sake, it was because he had trusted Sheridan over Fancy in the first place that she was assaulted a second time! He couldn't pick Sheridan over her again, it was too cruel.

But his...heart, no matter how unwanted the feeling, no matter how wretched it made him feel, his heart couldn't accept her words.

"Fancy," Luis stepped forward and enfolded his girlfriend in his arms, hugging her tightly, "I'm not defending her-"

"-Are you sure? Because that's certainly what it sounded like!" She interrupted.

He sighed, running a hand down too long hair, "I'm not." He assured her seriously, ignoring that voice that crowed his dishonesty. "But there is a difference between _you _wishing for that, and Theresa." No there wasn't, the voice in the back of his mind spat viciously.

"She's looking out for me." Fancy said firmly from her place within his arms.

Luis stared darkly through the open back door at Theresa's still, silent figure, "That's not her place." He gazed into the shocked brown eyes of his sister unrelentingly, the woman in his arms forgotten as he spoke directly to Theresa. "Whatever blame is Sheridan's to bear, it is not our job to see that she suffers under that knowledge." His sister's lip trembled when Luis turned his head away from her, unable to look at her any longer.

"I want her to suffer." Fancy whispered.

Luis's body froze.

...

Sheridan dropped her bags on the wooden floor with a thump.

It had taken her longer than she had expected to reach the cabin. The single dirt road that led to her destination was filled with small debris that grew larger the closer she had travelled. She didn't remember there being quite so many potholes in the trail or ones that big. The snow had made everything slippery and she had had to drive slowly.

There was a storm system due to pass over Maine in the next couple of hours and it would last a few days, at least, that was what George had told her.

The snow would only grow deeper. But, she had no intention of travelling back to Harmony for at least a week, so though it might be a problem when she needed to leave, she couldn't bring herself to find the energy to worry about future problems now.

She had more than her share to deal with already.

Pulling out her mobile phone, the dead connection as she had expected, there was no reception for miles out here. Sheridan set the useless technology on the bare mantelpiece so she wouldn't lose it.

It was freezing. Turning towards the simple fireplace, her shoulders drooped when she noticed the lack of wood.

She always forgot.

She was so tired and desperately just wanted to go to sleep, but she knew that with night setting in, and that storm picking up, she would need the warmth of a fire if she intended to pass the night in any sort of comfort.

Leaning back against the cold, damp, wooden wall, Sheridan drew in a deep breath searching fruitlessly for the energy she'd need to go and search for kindling and wood.

The moment of stillness didn't help.

With more effort than it ought to have taken, she pushed herself off the wall and out into the late dusk.

The amount of fresh snow, more constantly falling around her, made it almost impossible to see the branches on the ground. Her hands quickly lost feeling in the fingers, making it even harder to keep a hold of the few branches she'd managed to collect.

She should have brought a basket. She hadn't even thought. Luis always remembered these types of things, he'd throw his eyes to the heavens and exclaim that he had no idea how she'd managed to survive for so long without him.

Sheridan felt the cold tear against her cheek as it fell. She had no idea how she had either, before or since.

If you could really call what she was doing now living.

Her top was soaked with the freezing water from the wood she had clasped to her chest tightly; making her wish again that she'd thought to bring a basket to collect the wood in.

"I'll never be able to get a fire started...they're too wet." Sheridan murmured to herself as she made her way back to the cabin, uncaring of how futile her foraging had ultimately been.

Pushing open the door, she tipped the pathetically small pile of wet branches into the wood basket for drying. Maybe they would be dry enough tomorrow to get a fire started with them.

Lying back onto the simple, single cot, Sheridan turned onto her side, away from the door.

She should eat something.

It was Christmas, and the staff had even wrapped a care package so that she would have something of a Christmas feast. The essentials, at least, were there. The ham, turkey, cider.

But the thought of food turned her stomach, and she was so tired.

Grabbing the single fleece blanket, she huddled under the modest warmth, her eyelids closing despite her fear of sleeping.

She was just so tired.

...

Luis un-wrapped his arms from around her, and gently pushed her away.

He looked deep into small blue eyes that were nothing like the ones that had haunted his dreams for years, and shook his head. "Don't do that." He said quietly. "Please, I know it's a lot to ask, but don't be bitter."

"I hate her." Fancy snarled.

His heart twisted in protest.

"I'm as much at fault for listening to her." He whispered.

She drew back, aghast. "No!"

But Luis felt the truth of those words ring true within his very being. "I am." He continued. "I don't know why Sheridan said what she did, what her motivations were-"

"-I think it's pretty clear what her motivations were, to get you back! No matter what she had to do to achieve that!" Fancy shouted angrily, cutting him off.

But Luis wasn't deterred.

The truth of his admittance had brought a stone to settle in his stomach, and a weight to his chest.

He shook his head, "Whatever her reasons, Fancy, I thought you were dreaming as well. I admit your unwavering belief otherwise, made me hesitate, but I was so happy to accept Sheridan's opinion because I was already thinking the exact same thing myself." He stated forcefully, everything that he was saying, was thinking, for the first time, ringing true.

"Sheridan thought and said what she did out of malice!" Fancy shouted.

He wasn't quick enough to stop the instinctive scowl at those words, his insides seeming to come alive with rage.

Fancy pointed at him accusingly, "I thought we were past this! I thought you'd _finally,_ after what happened to me, after Sheridan's part in it, after her actions almost caused you to be executed and did cause you to spend months in jail; I _thought _you'd seen the light when it came to that witch!" She yelled, beside herself.

"Fancy," Luis shouted sharply, immediately halting her hysterical diatribe. "Stop it. Please." He sighed, running a hand down his face. "I'm tired. Let's just go back inside and enjoy the rest of the day."

He turned intent on joining his family, when a soft, fearful whisper stopped him, "Luis...?"

He stopped. Cocking his head slightly in silent question.

"...You haven't forgiven her, have you?"

The weight on his chest doubled.

Luis turned back partly, half his face caught in shadow.

Fancy's cheeks were tear-stained and blotchy, her hands ringing nervously in front of her.

"...No."

She smiled a smile of relief and grabbed a hold of his arm tightly. "Of course, you haven't." She breathed.

He couldn't meet her eyes.

He felt guilty. Terribly guilty.

Because, he'd lied.

...The truth was, at this point, Luis didn't know if he had forgiven her or not.

How was that possible?

...

_Thank-you for the reviews! This chapter seemed to fly off my fingers it was in such a hurry to write itself! Did you like it?_


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